Veiled of the Truth
by Learlorde
Summary: Several months have passed since New York, in which things were getting better for both the world and the team. However, when some unfortunate doings result in Tony getting severely injured at a battle in Boston, the team unravels a deadly conflict that will either lead to their deaths or their survival.
1. Distant Cousins

_Greetings,_

_This story came from an interesting idea I developed a while back and I unexpectedly decided that I wanted to post it on Fanfiction for other Avenger fans to enjoy. What you will be reading, if you choose that you like it, is a snippet or a sneak peek of the full story that is to play out. Originally I was only going to do these six chapters, but I've gotten a large enough audience to take this story from the top once I release the sixth chapter. So first off, I'd like to mention that when I wrote this first and the second chapter I didn't have the full details for the plot in mind; so there are probably some things mentioned in later chapters that should have been mentioned a bit in these first two. I plan to touch them up when I start the story from the beginning. Secondly, I did not go into detail on the said break in at the tower because it was not necessary for the current conflict, but it will eventually become its own chapter. Lastly, this story as a whole takes place after the events of Iron Man 3. On from that, I thank all supporters for this story and I hope new visitors will embrace it as well, but everyone has their own tastes. With that, I present the first chapter of the preview series for Veiled of the Truth:** Distant Cousins**. Enjoy!_

_*Please read Author Notes; they include specific information on this chapter.*_

_-Learlorde_

* * *

1

Distant Cousins

* * *

Drawing back the powerful string, Clint let his fingers slide from grip, allowing the arrow to seep deeply into the 'Raptor'; though it failed for a through and through considering its thick flesh. To be honest, neither he nor his teammates knew exactly what these creatures were; that was Stark and Banner's bidding. So far they had distinguished that there was a wave frequency similar to the Chitauri emitting from the creatures. Nobody was completely relieved that this certain case might not go as smoothly as others since the seriousness seemed to leap to new heights. Stark then decided to just refer to them as 'Jealous Distance Cousins That Missed the Action', while Cap confirmed the team to just go by them as Raptors due to their physical being.

These creatures were beyond what the team had ever seen. Standing eerily similar to a human, the Raptors balanced on two three-toed, talon 'feet' and the same was with their 'hands'. Thick, sleek plates of armor aligned down their prehistoric-like heads and spines. Rough, leathery skin of a sickening black coated their bodies while the tips of their claws matched the metal-like color of the armor. At first Clint could only see the trait of pure hideousness between the Raptors and the Chitauri - But, oh wait, _there_ it was - a simple electrical charge sparked amongst the dark eyes and the sharp claws before disappearing.

"These things sure know how to climb." Clint grunted into the comm, taking out three more Raptors that easily found their way to the roof he occupied. "I don't know if this is looking good, guys. Stark, what's your status?" He huffed, scanning down at Hanover Street that made its way through Boston. Petrified screams erupted from the invaded area like a lost and forgotten nightmare had awakened. Smoke pillowed from the destruction of the buildings and the piled cars, clouding the stars of the night sky as the falling snow gradually grew. What Clint truly found amusing was out of all cases, they had to deal with probably one of the worst during the bitter winter _in Boston_.

"Hawkeye, I'm_ trying_." The archer was slightly startled by the overwhelmed tone that lingered in Stark's voice as it broke through. At least _he_ had built-in heating; a luxury in battle. "We shouldn't even be having a problem with this," he irritated before continuing, "_Something else_ is interfering with the transmission." Clint pinched the hinge of the HUD lenses he wore, grimacing at the way the billionaire said _'something else'_, but he decided to recall from pressing on at the moment.

The team had decided to give Tony some space to breathe since the break in at Stark Tower. It was just a simple day, a simple case that had _'nothing could go wrong'_ written all over it. The mission took the team way out to a gamma research facility towards the Central States where an unexpected ambush had gone fatal. By the time both the Avengers and Shield arrived there were already several deceased. Luckily, Natasha was able to identify the small black imprint of AIM on the upper right chest of the bulletproof vests, underneath the jackets. The surviving staff announced that they had already made out with two gamma generators. Stark had immediately taken off with the other Avengers following close behind in the Quinjet. Clint couldn't imagine what AIM would want with two gamma generators, but he knew it wouldn't play well without a little bit of bloodshed. It was when JARVIS frantically warned of the security breech at Stark Tower that the whole team realized that the entire mission was a distraction. But it was already too late by the time they arrived: several Stark Industries employers were already badly injured and two arc generators were missing. Clint swore he'd never seen Tony so devastated, but Pepper and JARVIS were enough to keep him from having a serious panic attack. The archer was no scientific genius, but he knew two gamma and two arc generators in the hands of AIM spat that all hell was going to break loose. And Clint wasn't wrong because here they were eleven days later.

"What do you mean by _something else_?" It was Natasha that asked through the comm as Clint released another arrow before slamming the leg of his bow against the head of a Raptor with blunt force. Once the Raptor was stunned, Clint stabbed an arrow in its neck with a light spray of blackish-blood dabbing the arm of his jacket.

"We've already identified that, yes, a portal is the source, correct?" Stark's words began to slip from his mouth hastily as he restated their confirmed knowledge. "Though there are strong peaks of energy in our general area, something is blocking the signal for the strongest peak. The strongest peak would act as the location of the portal. Without this signal, it won't be easy to locate it," he said frankly. Clint spotted the Iron Man rounding from an intersection, streaming along Hanover and blasting as many Raptors as possible before coming to a hover above the battle. "But what I mean by something else is that I had this problem after the break in at the tower. When I tried finding a signal to locate the stolen generators, something was blocking it. I don't know who or what this is, but AIM is not advanced enough to do this, nobody is, but the same method is being used right now."

"Stark, do you think we should start considering this an unearthly method?" Steve panted as thuds echoed through the comm. Clint eyed him farther down the street with six Raptors surrounding him. Reaching for an arrow, he aimed right for the Captain but paused. He knew the soldier could handle six Raptors, but why not treat them with a bit of Hawkeye hospitality.

"Shall I blow those suckers up for you, Cap?" The archer offered, awaiting the okay to let the grenade-arrow fly as his lenses marked every Raptor in a hundred foot radius with a red target.

"Be my guest; there's more inbound, anyway," Steve agreed, pounding the shield against two Raptors at his back. "On three; it'll give me enough time to take shelter." He added, taking out another Raptor with a knife before darting off among the motionless cars with the Raptors rampaging behind him. "Three.. Two.. One!" The super soldier puffed out firmly, rolling behind a car and protecting himself with the shield.

The second 'one' was out of the Captain's throat, the arrow flew without hesitation. The grenade landed right in the middle of the horde before Raptor blood and flesh stained the street and buildings, making Clint snort in disgust. "Kinda reminds me of the Mass Extinction all over again," Clint chimed, claiming an arrow to the rest again.

"Yeah, quite a shame they weren't here back 'n' the day to get the memo," Stark retorted, repulsing down a Raptor that was advancing from behind the archer. "Unearthly?" The genius leapt back to what Steve had mentioned as if it were an insane thought. The whole team could understand though. Unearthly was just another unfortunate level from earthly that they didn't want to deal with.

"Well, it's not impossible. Probably more possible than impossible, but let's not jump to too big of conclusions," Banner pitched in. The scientist was on the Quinjet helping in locating the portal while JARVIS piloted the air-vehicle. "Right now we just need to find the portal, shut it down, and if magic is involved then we'll figure it out later." He finished, using the actual term for 'unearthly'. He didn't seem too happy, not that any of them were fond of the thought of magic being involved, though from this point that theory was starting to become clear as day.

"Big Green's r-" A loud cloud of fire rose from a few blocks down, sending its might to rumble the city. There was a thread of horror that nearly made Clint's heart skip a beat, seeing the new wave of Raptors charging towards them with roars of pure hatred shattering through their ears. "Shit… Natasha, what's your status on the evac?" Tony barked promptly, using his thrusters to face north where the explosion occurred.

"The Boston police are working on it. They're going to try getting all the civilians to basements on the outskirts of the city," the assassin answered abruptly, sounding slightly out of breath. Down an intersection, the red-head was escaping to a balcony after three Raptors fell from her Widow's Sting. Once she reached the balcony, she continued to reconnect with the scattered team. "SHIELD is sending back up to our coordinates now. They'll try to get here as soon as possible," Natasha finished, shooting down two more Raptors.

"We don't have time for as soon as possible. We need back up now!" Steve plagued, dashing towards a building once there were no more civilians on the street. Another minute later, he emerged on a roof not far across from where Clint was. "We need to reform our plan until back up arrives. This is chaos, these things just keep coming," he blurted out, looking restless on the roof while briefing with the team.

"I know where we can get some back up," the billionaire quipped suddenly, rotating to stare at the Quinjet, "Banner ready to suit up?" Clint let a smirk form on his lips. It was quite amazing how fond Tony really was of Bruce and the Hulk, but his optimism influenced the rest of the team as well. The entire team had become quite close to each other after New York and to be honest, it seemed that Banner had gained more control over hulking out. He said that being accepted into a team really made both him and the other guy more comfortable and it gave the Hulk a better reason to try cooperating for a change. They could all thank Stark for that. It just proved to the team that sometimes you need some quirk; it really made the difference in everything.

"I approve," Banner chuckled before adding, "but we still haven't located the portal. You'll need me on this with you, Sta-" he was cut off as Stark began ranting.

"I love your enthusiasm to work with me, buddy, because I'm just that irresistible, but we need you out here big guy and plus, I've got JARVIS helping me," Stark insisted lightly, though concern was starting to cloud his voice as the Raptors started swarming the streets like bees in a hive.

"Alright, _he'll_ be there," the scientist reassured. "JARVIS, please find this portal," Banner breathed over the comm as a huff gradually grew into a deeper growl.

"I will do my best, Dr. Banner," JARVIS replied gently. Then there was JARVIS. It didn't matter that he wasn't a human, it didn't matter that he was a computer. JARVIS was always there looking out for the team; whether it was making coffee for them in the morning after groggy nights to flying the Quinjet when missions got tense. He had become a real addition to the Avengers and they were thankful to him for that. "There are more Raptors incoming. They apparently are beginning to fan out among a one mile radius," the British voice added quickly, snapping the archer back from thought. _Shit_.

Clint gritted his teeth, letting another arrow bomb a swarm below. "Alright, so what's the new plan?" he urged, ready for a move on already because their problem was getting worse. He suddenly wished Thor were here, they could use a little lightning to zap these bastards, but go figure.

"You four keep these guys distracted. Keep them away from civilians and from forming a larger radius. I'm going to scout for the portal," Stark commanded as the Hulk smashed into the street, slamming every Raptor in sight.

"Copy that, Stark, we'l-" Steve couldn't even finish his sentence as something blinking red appeared on Clint's lenses.

"STARK!" Clint screamed, panic-struck. He didn't know why he hadn't spotted it, but it came out of nowhere, launching itself at the Iron Man. The archer tried shooting it, but it was already too late. The creature had already rammed itself into the suit and the perverse sound of tearing metal taunted the comm as it latched onto the armor. There was just a stunned gasp of the air being knocked out of Stark's lungs – then static as the creature's weight brought the billionaire crashing to the concrete. And that wasn't even the worst of it. It was like the second Stark went down all the Raptors were drawn to him. Mortified, it was like the Walking Dead; someone goes down and it's a feeding frenzy. The Raptors were trapping their teammate to the ground, clawing at the armor, trying to break through to his body.

* * *

Tony heard the scream of his name bellow in his ears the moment an alarm on the HUD set off and then – BANG. There was no air left in his lungs to make a cry of startled pain as he felt himself being dragged down by gravity with the beast. He couldn't even find a dominant emotion as several swirled at his brain with the cold sound of his armor being torn. It shrouded any other noise along with the static and the sharp pain that ripped at his right shoulder. And Tony could have sworn he blacked out for a second as the hard, metallic crunch came against the icy snow.

All that came to mind was the moment he had awakened right after the Battle of Manhattan; the cold, emptiness of his lungs. He was supposed to be dead, there was no way he could have survived, but perhaps god chose otherwise. Maybe it was the pain of the oxygen against his long deserted air sacs that brought him back to life because he felt that same pain now; except there were no friends at his side and instead he was being pinned with Raptors piling on top of him.

"G-ah," he gasped, trying to get air back into his lungs as the HUD flickered. "Fu-," Tony winced, his shoulder searing with pain. "J-JARVIS, what wa-" Pausing, he looked up to where a maddened screech revealed the Raptor-like creature still holding him down, "-is that?" he finished, still trying to catch his breath. This thing was nearly twice as large as the other Raptors; its armor almost covering its entire body and the electrical charge that sparked from the eye was red instead of the regular blue. It had to be some type of leader or an alpha. "JAVES?" Tony called frantically when static came and went frequently. _Dammit_.

"Sir-," JARVIS' voice broke through before dying again. He took a deep breath, watching the glowing ripple of his suit reflect among the Raptors above him until the warm light gathered at his chest and burst as a beam, blasting the aliens right off him, even the Alpha. The scent of charred flesh drifted into the air as the static started to clear and the horrified screams of his teammates, his friends filled the comm. A raw roar struck the earth as Tony saw a flash of green and blue out of the corner of his eye. "Sir, connection is back online," the British accent announced once the HUD fluttered back to life, allowing the billionaire to sigh with relief as he stumbled to a knee. Steve was suddenly knelt at his side, while the Hulk, Barton, and Natasha kept the Raptors from reaching him to give him a moment to get to his feet again.

"Stark!? Stark, you copy?" Clint uttered hectically.

"Damn.. it tore right through his armor - he's bleeding from the shoulder. I'm gonna take him aside for a moment; see if it's serious or not," Steve murmured urgently as he rounded over to Tony's good shoulder, the bleak vibrations of ice and snow beneath his boots.

"The building below me is empty, Cap," Clint muttered as Tony refused the helping hand and pushed himself to his feet.

"No, I-I'm fine. We don't have time for this. I need to find the portal, or it's gonna be hell on Earth… not that it isn't already," Tony asserted, getting an unpleasant look from Steve. Glancing at his shoulder, he could see three claw marks sliced through the titanium where large droplets of scarlet now glittered the exposed circuits and trickled along the outside of the armor where a piece of the shell was missing at his bicep. "Uh..," Tony swallowed a wince as he tried hiding the fear and anger that began to dwell at his soul. Nothing had ever been able to break through his armor like that…

"Tony, just let Cap check it out." It was Natasha that protested more gently then Tony would have expected. "It's better to be safe than sorry."

"Well sometimes we don't have time for that. Listen, I'll have JARVI-" Squinting, Tony glared over his shoulder, with Cap, to where that daring shriek cried from. Shit no… it was _still_ alive. He clinched his teeth, activating the thrusters and dodging the Alpha as it charged for him and Steve; the Captain barely rolled away in time. The Hulk took care of it, though, no problem. The billionaire and the super soldier watched their teammate rip the armor from the Alpha with a stomach-lurching sound, making the creature yelp in agony before an arrow from Barton ended it in a final blow.

"What the hell is that thing…," Steve drained at the limp Alpha, black mixing with the white powder, as the Raptors bore their daggered teeth with a deep hiss-like growl, ready for retaliation.

"I'd like to think a Raptor on steroids, but apparently that's not what _they_ think," Clint sarcastically answered, arming his bow as a wall of Raptors raided towards them.

"I assumed it was some sort of Alpha, but I like the steroids theory better," Tony put in with a huff of amusement, taking down several Raptors to give his teammates a head start. "Steve, I'll have JARVIS scan the shoulder damage and report back to you – I'm going to search for the portal, though."

"Fine, fair enough," Steve concurred, chucking his shield like a frisbee. "Just be careful, especially if anymore 'Alphas' show up. We'll keep these guys busy, for you, though."

"Will do, Captain. Have fun," Tony finished ecstatically, speeding off from a hover. The limpid cold that numbed at the wound sent a shiver along Tony's spine as he switched to private communication with JARVIS. "JARVIS, will you sc-"

"Already on it, sir." The robotic voice noticed as a holographic scanning of the suit appeared on the HUD before he added, "I'm starting to reach a breakthrough in locating the portal. Apparently it seems that whatever was blocking the signal is beginning to fail. Energy peaks are starting to increase around the establishment of the Paul Revere Mall."

"Good to hear; let's try to do this with as little destruction to history as possible. What's the results for the shoulder?" He asked, continuing down Hanover, blasting stray Raptors to the ground as he past.

"The Alpha easily cut through the titanium as if it were a natural ability with no problem scathing layers of skin on the shoulder. It is only a few centimeters deep and the blood has already started to clot; it is not serious and should make a simple recovery," JARVIS announced gladly before finishing with, "But I advise being cautious if there are to be more Alphas before the portal is shut down."

"Let's hope there aren't." The billionaire muttered under his breath before turning at the entrance to the small park, realizing he had spoken too soon.

* * *

_Thank you for your wonderful time and I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of the previewed series for Veiled of The Truth. Feel free to leave a review and hopefully I'll see you next chapter!_

_-Learlorde_


	2. The Red Stream

_Greetings,_

_And welcome back to Veiled of the Truth! For the fans of this story and visitors, I apologize for the late update because my goal is to release a new chapter every Tuesday. However, I had an extremely busy and tiring weekend that left me little time to write and I apologize ahead of time because this coming weekend will again be extremely busy and tiring with my sister's grad party; so I may not get to release the third chapter until late next week. Nevertheless, I've been up writing like a maniac, I'm tired, I finished it, but I'm super excited, and I hope it lives up to your expectations! I thank all of you for your support; and with that, I present to you Chapter 2 of the preview series for Veiled of the Truth: **The Red Stream**. Enjoy! :)_

_-Learlorde_

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2

The Red Stream

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The heat of the friction wore itself through Steve's combat boots as he slid backwards, balancing himself with a gloved hand against the street. As soon as he came to a slight stop, he sprung forward, grabbing a large shard of shrapnel from the snowed pavement while charging head on with a Raptor. These creatures might have contained raw power, but they lacked intelligence which was the true ruler of all. _No wonder_ why Stark was so top-notch in civil _and_ heroic aspects. Approaching the alien, the soldier threw the shrapnel directly at its chest. It didn't even have time to cry as it immediately fell with a blackish pool forming beneath it. He then quickly leaped behind it, retrieving the patriotic shield before pivoting and striking it horizontally against a Raptor that was coming up from his rear. Pulling the shield then vertically down, he finished the Raptor with a crushing blow to the skull, smashing its armor to pieces.

"Barton, what's the perimeter look like?" Steve stepped back, panting with blood raging in his ears. There was so much adrenaline that he completely forgot about the brisk cold which his breath crystallized with the floating snowflakes. He backed up trying to get a better view of the roof the archer grounded since Steve didn't get an answer. Clint struggled to throw a dead Raptor off of him before he glared out towards the city to provide an accurate response to Steve.

"Uh..," the Hawkeye puffed as he tried dragging one of the Raptor bodies off the roof, but it obviously wasn't going very well because it looked like he was trying to budge a tank. "Most of the Raptors are here focused on us, which is good; k... keeps them from... spreading about like spilled... milk," the man gasped with relief as he was finally able to push the body from the roof along with a gob of snow.

"Spilled milk? Really, Barton, I was expecting something more dreadful," Stark piped in suddenly.

"I'm sorry, Stark, but aren't you supposed to be searching for a portal?" Clint jarred as Steve saw him disappear behind the ledge of the roof before appearing again with his bow in hand. "But it's good that you chirped up because weren't you supposed to report to us about your shoulder?" He said, shooting down a Raptor that was flanking Steve, which he nodded his thanks before throwing his shield at one climbing up the bricks of Clint's building.

"Yeah, sure thing, once I'm finished with this other _Alpha_," the genius spiced in an aggravated tune.

"What?" Natasha came to life through the bickering, sounding startled. She and the Hulk fought back to back at the intersection in front of the Hawkeye's perch.

"Stark, where are you?" Steve urged with his eyes widening a bit in alarm, leaping across the street to catch his shield as it bounced back to him. Tightening the grip on his shield, Steve advanced towards Natasha, fleetly tossing the disk and taking out a Raptor that was in the Widow's blind spot.

"I'm about two blocks north from you guys. JARVIS is getting a breakthrough with the signal; the portal is somewhere around that Paul Revere Mall - thingy," he said, allowing Steve to sigh a bit; at least they were getting somewhere now because he could seriously use a cup of _tea_ after this. The team was actually still holding out quite strong. It was freezing, they were tired, but they still had a long way to go with the portal, though the Raptor numbers of the second wave had been reduced greatly. Hopefully, now with a decent signal, they would close this case soon enough. "I'm going to bait it towards the Hulk since he seems to have better luck with the Alphas; introduce them to some _Hulk_ hospitality."

"Oh, how _stark_ of you - pun intended," Clint snorted elegantly through the comm as if fluttering eyelashes were included.

"Well, that's just great - now there's two following me," Stark then sniveled, abraded.

"Well, like you said: you're just _that_ irresistible." Steve heard Clint sally in a sputter, trying to avoid the overriding of the frightening information. "But lead them straight towards us and we'll take care of them. Steve, Nat, I'm gonna lay down some more grenades, finish the las-" the archer was cut off as the blizzard started to temporarily flurry uncontrollably. Steve briefly glanced upward at the sudden heavy noise that boomed the street before swiftly digging his knife into a Raptor's neck.

Not far from the Quinjet suddenly pulled up a recognizable SHIELD hovercraft along with two smaller birds and a helicopter. "This is Superior of SHIELD to Avengers, do you copy?" A female voice muffled through the comm. Well it was-

"About fucking time!" Steve couldn't have said it better himself as the Hawk spat indignantly, releasing another arrow. "Superior this is Barton, we copy. Who else do you have with you?" He demanded a little harshly before finishing separately to Steve and Natasha, "Steve, Nat, I'm sending down a few grenades in five to end the last of the second wave; clear from the intersection immediately." Steve could tell it in his voice that the cold was starting to get to his nerves, though they were equipped with resistant clothing.

Retrieving his shield hurriedly, Steve gestured with his head towards Natasha as she finished zapping the Raptors closest to them. There was no worrying about Hulk as he was far enough to avoid the impending blast, making Steve and Natasha dart away as ordered by Clint. Side by side they made it from the intersection south as Steve counted down _five Mississippi, four Mississippi..._ under his breath while Superior reported, "With us we have Bird I and Bird II of SHIELD, along with East Wind of Boston air control. We request further briefing on what we're dealing with and await for provided instructions, over." Natasha led the way behind a car before Steve kneeled with his shield covering them as the explosions tore through the earpieces.

Steve remained in position as he felt the impact of debris and probably Raptor parts against his shield as he spotted Natasha pressing her sleek gloves to her comm. "Good," she yapped firmly before adding, "JARVIS, brief them."

"Indeed, Agent Romanova. Should I also inform them of consequences due to their tardiness?" JARVIS hummed, empathizing with the team's wrath as they battled in the freezing cold waiting for their backup.

"I'm sure they'd be _honored_, JARVIS," Steve yipped as he lowered his shield, steadily rising back to a stand with Natasha, inspecting the flaming wreckage. "Nice shooting, Barton; looks like we've earned ourselves a little breather before the next wave comes in," the super soldier breathed, eyeing the mass of Raptor bodies that were sprawled along the streets as Hulk furiously smashed any survivors. Searching his body for any injuries or cuts he might have failed to notice, Steve only caught minor rips in the fabric at his left bicep and near his collarbone where there were just tad smears of crimson. "You alright?" He asked as he glanced over to Natasha, walking beside her back to the intersection; she had a pretty bad cut on her right cheek.

"Yeah," the assassin took a deep sigh, stopping for a moment to face Steve. He watched closely as the pelting snow gathered on her hair. "Usually I don't complain, but I really feel like shooting Fury in the knee for this." There was a sudden outburst of laughter on the other side of the comm.

"Oh, Nat, it'd be a pleasure if I joined you," Clint chortled, making Steve huff slightly with a shallow smirk. "But seriousl-" Steve heard a crackle over the comm, cutting Clint short.

"East Wind to Avengers, we're up to speed; what do you need us to d-" A male voice muttered just as a screech flooded the main street. Steve snapped his attention up Hanover along with Natasha, making out the red and gold of the Iron Man suit bolting towards them with the two monstrous Alphas trailing close behind him. "Holy shit… what the hell are those things?"

* * *

It was completely unexpected as the Alpha's talons raked Tony's left side, operating the painful sound of metal splitting open, making alarms on the HUD blaze. The force was nearly enough to send him to the ground again, but he evaded with the brisk activation of his thrusters and a growing scowl. "JARVIS, keep me posted on the energy peaks, I'm gonna try to take this guy out," he murmured, the HUD targeting the exposed areas between the armor plates.

"Sir, it jus-" JARVIS tried countering in concern, but Tony interrupted him.

"I know – I just need to try something," Tony explained agitated, looking at the suit's figure on the screen. It was completely fine; he'd be fine, but if things went south then he'd just lead it to the Hulk. Sending himself into a dive, a slot near Tony's good shoulder slid open, releasing a small explosive device just as the Alpha leapt dangerously from its hinds with a ferocious wail. Instantly, Tony motioned the thrusters, pushing him from the smoke and fire that plunged the murderous spark in the creature's dark eyes. The Alpha suddenly dropped in a thrashing matter, utterly stunned by the unforeseen explosion, crashing onto the pathway. It wasn't unconscious, but dazed enough to lose its focal point on Tony to which he vigorously struck the Alpha's head with an iron fist before gripping part of the head armor as the alien began in frenzy. He slapped another explosive device under the narrow edge of the thick armor just as its claw ripped against his wrist, making Tony jolt back into the sky with a growl, but it was finished… he hoped and then – BOOM.

Tony narrowed his eyes as it cried while patches of black splattered the snow, but the Alpha's figure just didn't go limp under the smoke; the billionaire could only grit his teeth when the HUD revealed just a small chunk missing from its head armor. "_Dammit_." He dragged in fury before murmuring to himself as the Alpha stumbled to its feet, "Alright, I need to get this guy down to Hulk…" Gently lifting his palms, Tony backed himself up as the Alpha resentfully gained its balance and began stalking towards him. "That's right, buddy, just keep following me," he said, gesturing with his hand before taking off through the storm towards his teammates as the Alpha started at him with a deafening shriek- but then there was a second cry in the background. Tony raised his eyebrows, gazing over his shoulder and… _Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me_ – there was another one. That was three Alphas so far. How many of these guys were there?

Shooting along the street, Tony kept his attention on the intersection where the main battle played. They were managing and that was good, but Tony was worried about the endurance that was gradually draining from the cold. Clint seemed to be getting the worst of it; after all, he wasn't pulling crazy attacks like the rest of the team, being their eyes in the sky besides Tony. Tony didn't feel too optimum either as his shoulder began to throb and the cold that was leaking into his suit was just _harsh_ - the Hawk had to be frozen. He seriously needed to drop these guys off and get to that portal or this team would be run exhausted, but at least they had their backup now, _finally_.

"Barton, what do you need us to do?" the woman from Superior asked calmly.

"First off, you need to avoid the Alphas – stand down from all Alphas, we're having Hulk deal with them. What you can do for us is take down all the strays. JARVIS will help you pinpoint and engage them with target lock," Clint instructed after bombing the last of the second wave. It felt good seeing the team free for a moment, but they still had these two fellas to deal will.

"Copy that," she finished as Tony watched the aircrafts take off in separate directions along the perimeter of the city.

"Guys, you ready for these two?" the billionaire batted as he gained on the intersection fast with the wind howling fiercely.

"As we'll ever be," Natasha, out of all people, retorted. Tony grinned slightly as the Hulk moved to the dab center of the intersection, looking like he was about to have a tantrum of excitement while he fisted the pavement impatiently.

"Alright, Hulk, give them what they deserve," Tony pressed courageously as he sped over the intersection with the sudden collision of the Hulk and the first Alpha not far behind him. He made a fast turn before hurtling himself up towards the intersection once again. Oh, Hulk was _good_. Yeah, this team had everything; brains, muscle, _awesomeness_. He easily tore the armor right off its body and threw it into the bricks of a building, leaving the others to finish it before the Hulk grabbed the second Alpha and repeated the process.

"Looks like you took another beating. You alright, Stark?" It was Steve who asked as he past the intersection, heading back towards the park.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Tony tried telling him off like he was a child being nagged by their parents. "Really, it's nothing; JARVIS even said my shoulder will be a simple fix. I'm more concerned about you guys; poor feathers is starting to look like a statue, I just don't want him turning into a Hawksicle. How you holding up there, buddy?" He asked getting an amused snicker before Tony felt his heart sink at the blast of another explosion south of them: the _third_ wave. Glowering, Tony had to resist the urge to return to his teammates as the wave swallowed them up in a mad scramble for _slaughter_.

"_Shit_… They're coming from the south? Stark, how are they even…" Steve irked over the comm, but his voice trailed with cold breath when – the _fourth _explosion seared the world petrified.

"Gah…" The billionaire could feel his soul swelling with fear as he heard his teammates getting slightly overwhelmed. Each wave just spilled more and more Raptors, but this was intensifying as the waves were nearly on top of each other. "Guys, I'm getting low on arrows." Clint then notified with anxiety inundating his persona as the blizzard tore to the earth even harder.

Tony felt like he lost his brain for a moment from the pounding stress of locating the fucking portal and dealing the fucking Raptors and the fucking Alphas, and how the fuck they were appearing all over the fucking city, and then - oh my god. "They're doing this on purpose!" The billionaire immediately jabbered into the comm, peeling off a Raptor that suddenly clung to him in midair.

"What the hell you talking about? Of course, they'r-" Hawkeye returned like it was common sense to know that any alien attack was '_on purpose_'.

"No, what I mean is that these explosions are brief rifts. They open for seconds anywhere but where the main portal is to keep us from getting to it." Tony began in a ramble, not knowing if he was even making any sense as he tried to put his thoughts into words. "And I know that's bullshit because, of course, any alien's army would try to protect their portal, but these guys are like fanatics about it. New York was simple, they just planted it on the tower and the only way to close it was with Loki's scepter – there and done. But these guys are swarming us, using other portals provided by the main portal, getting us worn out, and hiding their portal like ther-"

"Tony... just spit it out in one sentence!" The Captain insisted, panting.

A deep sigh edged out of Tony's lungs as he neared the park, repulsing several Raptors as he declined towards the pathway. "I think they're keeping us from finding the portal because there's something else; they're waiting for something to happen." He breathed out as he landed with a slick slide before coming to a stop in front of the fountain.

There was a long silence over the comm as if the entire team was still trying to consider Tony's idea. "Where the hell did you come up with that crazy concoction?" Clint's bantering then broke the vocal stillness.

"Clint, I'm _Tony Stark_. Crazy concoctions is what created the Stark legacy," he said blandly as if it were the most indisputable thing known to the world. An alarm on the HUD then set off, leaving Tony to swiftly turn and shoot down a Raptor lunging at him before a second one slammed against his side. _Ugh…_ He easily tore the Raptor from his armor, though his stinging shoulder told him otherwise as he then body slammed it to the ground and repulsing at its face where it went still with black dripping from it.

"Sir, the transmission is free of blockage; I've located the main portal." JARVIS pressed as Tony elbowed a Raptor in the neck. A map then pulled up on the screen. "It is stationed within the Eliot School."

Another moment of odd silence crossed the comm. They_ finally_ knew where the portal was, but apparently what Tony had hypothesized was starting to crawl along the team's skin in a back way. "Alright, let us know what you find," Tony heard Natasha murmur.

"Will do, Agent Romanoff; we'll be home for a movie and _tea_ before you know it," Tony implied, jetting off towards the school right alongside the park.

"_Uh_, Chinese food sounds _so_ good right now, or even something greasy," Clint stammered a bit weakly. "Nat… How come you're not freezing?"

"Oh, it's cold, but I'm just constantly movement," she answered as if she shrugged. "Maybe you should get a bit more hand to hand in."

"Yeah, I would if I could feel my limbs and if these things weren't trying to slice us to pieces," he pouted. Tony was starting to feel a bit bad for him because none of them really complained unless it was about an eight out of ten stars.

"Hang there, buddy... I'm gonna en-" Tony lost his voice as he purposely smashed through the school window and landed in the corridor. Endlessly staring, Tony took a set forward, observing the gaping hole of darkness with, what looked like, cosmic energy trimming it. Tony could feel the pressure of it against the metal that protected his body. He took a deep breath, trying to release himself from the dire memory of dying along in the dark volume of space, but it remained as a shadow in the back of his mind. Underneath the portal patterned the four generators in the shape of a diamond. It looked nearly the same, but this was _different_ from the portal in New York; Tony could _see_ the energy around it being absorbed. "Whoa…," was all he could really muster.

"Stark, what's wrong?" Steve shortly questioned at the crucial vibe in Tony's voice.

If it were possible to pinch the bridge of his nose with his faceplate on, he would. "Okay… It seems that the rifts are producing cosmic energy. It's feeding this portal to the point of it becoming one giant mass of pressurized energy." Tony was acute before proceeding with the brazen illumination. "The generators are the only thing stabilizing it and if I shut them down or destroy them, the portal will become an unstable, unpredictable form of cosmic energy. My guess is that it'll collapse on itself and either create a temporary vortex like a black hole would; it'll explode; or maybe even both…"

"Is there any way to avoid that outcome?" Clint chipped in with a terrified groan.

"No, not from what I'm seeing; we'll have to go through with it collapsi-" Tony suddenly broke off in a startle as one of the generators sparked out. Lurching, he could feel his heart pounding within his chest as there was a growing current driving towards the mass. "God, no, no, no… It _shortaged_ out!" Tony yelped into the comm in warning as he swiveled away from the portal. The scraping of metal against tile bellowed to life as Tony felt himself slowly being pulled towards certain death.

"WHAT?!" Steve screamed over the line in pure panic along with the wind that roared, "STARK, GET OUT OF THERE!"

Tony huffed, laying a hand on the floor to stable himself as he turned the thrusters back on, but he looked back before he took off. He glared at the other three generators that were still running. Clamping his teeth together, he twisted his abdomen and lifted his hand with his shoulder muscles stretching painfully. Aiming at the generator closest to him, Tony fired at it; then the second, and followed by the third. With the last of the portal's stabilizing agents destroyed there was nothing more to keep it alive. The billionaire knew it'd be disastrous as the vortex upped the gale, but the portal might have not closed without all the generators destroyed. Grunting, Tony lifted from the ground, blasting the thrusters as the brick walls of the school starting to crumble.

The wind was strong enough to pull against Tony, but his thrusters were able to get him from the building. He lowered along the tree line as he fought against the suction, hearing the grunts and struggles of his teammates taunting the comm. Huffing, he narrowed his eyes trying to avoid objects and debris invisible from the maddened storm as the cruel windshield whipped at his shoulder. "How long is… this… going to last?" Tony heard Clint faintly call through the comm as if he were in pain. "Stark? Tony?" The archer continued trying to get him to say something since they hadn't heard from him, but Tony was rarely refusing to say anything as he tried to keep himself from getting pulled into the portal, but then Clint started jarring his name in fear as if trying to get him to notice something. "Stark? Stark? Just say something, ther-"

"Tony - there's a child." Tony's face fell in horror as the Captain finished the Hawk's sentence.

"Where?" he suddenly blurt out, trying to peer through the snow.

"Near the bell tower," Natasha informed.

A thunderous boom powered as Tony switched his thrusters to supersonic, cutting through the torpedo a lot easier. JARVIS marked something on the screen in green just in front of the park. Approaching, Tony's vision became clearer as he spotted a small dark figure in the flickering light of a lamppost, huddled before the bell tower. Landing difficultly as the current still pulled on him, Tony knelt before the little girl, outstretching a hand as she looked up at him with wet eyes. "Come on, I'll keep you safe… I promise," he reassured as calmly as he could before a screech pierced through the storm. Tony let a shallow gasp escape his throat as he glared up to find an Alpha diving at him from the tower. It slammed directly into him, throwing Tony from his feet and crashing beneath a tree. _Uh_… He huffed, quickly rising to his feet with a snarl as the girl screamed in complete terror. Releasing a blast from his chest, Tony was able to push the Alpha against the bell tower, where it fell to the ground with a hiss. It gave him enough time to reach the child, cradling her against his stomach as the Alpha quickly rose, but then - CRACK. Tony gazed up behind the Alpha in both relief and horror as the tower rapidly tore from the damage. There wasn't even time to think as the only thing that crossed Tony's mind was his life while turning to shield the girl. And that was all that could be done.

The hard impact of the Alpha and the shattering tower created a sickening thud as they both rammed into Tony, being pulled to the mass from the mighty current. He couldn't even scream as his vocals became entangled; his body running cold from the unseen splitting of flesh. Sliding along the snow, he grew completely limp with pain tinting his nerves and veins. Squeezing his eyes shut, he just wanted it to end and suddenly it did with a blurred ringing from some explosion that then occurred; leaving everything to fall still and quiet, expect for the sufferable breeze of the lasting storm. Tony took in a difficult breath as he stared through the flickering screen; eyes locked on a trail of red that led right to him. _No_… Was the girl? Or was it _him_? He let his eyes fall shut as he listened to the light static that lingered through the comm. _No_… It didn't matter whether it was him or the girl; either way, this shouldn't have happened. This wasn't supposed to happen.

* * *

"Clint." The archer weakly lifted his head at the soft call of his name, looking up into Natasha's face. Snow continued to fall around them as the three of them huddled along the side of the building Clint had been spotting from. When the gust tore through the city towards the portal, a few bricks had given, leaving Clint with the unfortunates of falling with the collapsing roof. He hit the snow with a painful thud which Steve and Natasha hurried over to him as the Raptors had their own struggles against the powerful wind. Hulk didn't seem to have a problem, though; he just continued to beat on them. Steve and Natasha closed around Clint, though, as he pulled his knees to his chest in agony, sitting against the brick with his head buried; taking shelter until the portal closed and awaiting Stark's report with the child.

And then it was quiet. It was _finally_ quiet... Maybe even too quiet because something was missing; something familiar and warm. He should know this because their partner was there all the time. It was _Tony Stark_. There was no irritating, yet slick reply to lighten the dead mood; there was no gentle hissing of his thrusters; there was no flash of the genius red and gold – _there was nothing_, but static. Clint thought his heart even stopped beating when he realized the dead quiet. It was so relieving, but it was so horrifying; just like after the Battle of Manhattan. The same sickening emotion of the moment the team watched the Iron Man go into free fall, not knowing whether he was dead or alive; or the same shock and horror that washed upon them as they watched his home crumble into the ocean.

Motivation was key. And all the mixture of that emotion of shock and horror was enough to get Clint to his feet. It hurt and he lagged, but he treaded with his teammates down the black-snowed street; even the Hulk trailed closely behind, double checking to be sure every Raptor and Alpha were dead after their connections died. They slowed, though, as they reached the bell tower, glaring at the ruin across from it... Rubble was scattered among the park with mere flames, sending smoke weaving into the gloomy atmosphere. And they dared to go deeper because deeper was where their eyes found the stream of red that stained the innocent white. At first Clint didn't even know what to do, hoping he may just be dreaming with the numbness of his body. It was just one comprehension with the pain and the cold and the quiet; but it was the sight of Steve and Natasha bounding towards the limp body that snapped Clint to complete consciousness and all that was left in his mind was – _Oh god, no…_

* * *

_Thank you for your wonderful time and I hope you enjoyed **The Red**** Stream**. Feel free to leave a review and I'm looking forward to seeing you guys next week!_

_-Learlorde_


	3. Despondency

_Greetings,_

_And welcome back to yet again, another chapter for the preview series for Veiled of the Truth. First off, this chapter, however, required a lot more specific detail and research; so in the long run, it did take up more time and I am thinking of taking a week off to let my brain recuperate and to get my releases back on schedule, which I now hope to release on Wednesdays. Secondly, I believe I will only be doing two or three more chapters before I track this story from the being; I know how it's gonna start and I think you guys are gonna like it. I will let you know that I'm a very detailed, step by step writer, meaning I'm gonna do by best to include all the fun, action, tragedy, etc; so just be prepared for a very long story. Plus, I'd also like to say that the Odyssey is an actually Helicarrier in the comics, in case people questioned the name. Lastly, I can't believe how much support I've been getting and I thank all of you for it. I hope this chapter lives up to the others and with no more further due, I give you Chapter 3 of the preview series for Veiled of the Truth: **Despondency**. Enjoy :)_

_-Learlorde_

* * *

3

Despondency

* * *

There was once a time when Natasha didn't think too highly of Stark, but she just had it all wrong; everyone did. It was all just a complete misunderstanding or interpretation; which the only people that seemed to truly understand him were JARVIS, Pepper, and Rhodey. The thing about Tony was everything; he was brilliant, he was witty, he was obnoxious. Sure he was self-obsessed, but deep down inside he did _love_ and he did _care_; and he was also good at hiding things, hiding emotions or touchy subjects. He was so good that he could manipulate anyone into thinking he was indeed fine; whether it was returning from captivity or having palladium poisoning or post-traumatic stress or being presumed dead. Perhaps the finger could be pointed at the team for failing to realize his difference in uniqueness and individualism at the beginning. They failed to see that his personality was just an unfamiliar mechanism because to them it just merged into a single word: _careless_. Natasha felt sorry, though; they all did because he proved them wrong and that proof nearly cost him his life. A wise human once said '_Don't judge a book by its cover'_; it was the damn truth, but that's what they did: _judge_. And that fault tore at their hearts when they realized he was a person with as many nightmares and skeletons in his closet as they did; maybe even more.

Natasha enclosed her appendages around Tony's involuntarily trembling hand, dark blood dabbing his skin... She hadn't been entirely honest with Loki; about tending not to weep. There were very few people Natasha accepted or trusted, but the few she did had gradually grown close to her; perhaps that was a similar trait between her and Tony, because so did he. And though she seemed heartless at times, she did _love_ and she did _care_, too; another trait between her and Tony. That was the thing about the team, though; none had ever really been a part of a 'team', but there was something about the five of them - six if Thor were currently there. There was something that attracted them to each other; it was the fact that their differences made them akin. Their akin allowed for that trust and comfort that merely existed, filling up that gap in each and every soul of them. They _needed_ each other and they needed each other now because death was severing the wire.

This team was becoming inseparable and Natasha could see it; a brother and sister hood. Any loss would be devastating, devastating enough to shed tears. It was torture to think it could ever happen to them, but they had to be prepared. Preparation was _necessary_. It was necessary in case they needed to right a wrong; just like with that child. Steve, Clint, and Natasha were horrified when the dark shape was highlighted through the archer's lenses. How could they have missed a child? Were they scared; were they hiding somewhere before? But they couldn't reach them, they wouldn't have gotten there in time; but they knew Stark could and would without hesitation. And he did, but they weren't prepared for what they would find.

-o-

"Stark?" Natasha called lightly through the comm as she slowly rose with a hand on the icy bricks. Closing her eyes, she prayed for a response, but nothing arose through the static - _nothing_. The only thing she received were looks of hysteria from the Hawk and the soldier.

The battle was over and the snow still flurried in a discontinuous hush with the Hulk's faint grumbles in the background, but then - "Superior to Avengers, do you copy?" The hopeful vibe that sparked among them suddenly died when it wasn't Stark's voice that broke through the line.

Steve lifted his fingers to readjust his comm. "This is Rogers, we copy," he murmured as he waved Natasha and Clint on, beginning in a jog before finishing, "East, stand by; we spotted a child down by the Paul Revere Mall. We are unsure whether Stark reached the child or not... He isn't responding. Meet us there and notify a few officers to accompany us as well."

"Copy that."

"Superior, what's your status?" Steve then asked in deep breaths as he paused a few yards down, waiting for Natasha and Clint to catch up to him.

"Can you walk?" Natasha looked down at Clint; he didn't seem badly injured, but she knew he'd be pretty bruised for the next few days.

"_Uh... Yeah,_" He winced weakly. Kneeling down, Natasha slipped her arm around the archer's waist, helping him to a stand until he regained his balance. "Come on...," Clint croaked to Natasha before starting in a limpy amble.

The crunch of snow echoed through the quiet streets as Natasha sprinted between Steve and Clint, looking back often to be sure the Hawk was doing alright. "We're discussing the cleanup job with the Boston Government Center. They're gonna secure the area: be sure everyone gets home safe 'n' sound," the woman of Superior reported.

"Good," Natasha finished, suddenly hearing the large steps of the Hulk lingering behind them.

The three of them couldn't even go a minute without needing to leap over a dead Raptor as massive corpse piles scattered along the streets and walkways. Murky smoke tainted the air with the dire taste of sweat and blood; however, the dim lamp posts that struggled to keep their lights alive helped to guide their way. "Tony?" The Captain suddenly called again with a heavy breath, but there was still no answer. "TONY! _Answer - God dammit_," he shouted more firmly as if that would bring the billionaire's voice to the comm, but it didn't. The growing anxiety was obvious within the super soldier as his vocals were corrupted with the burdened emotion; but Natasha was positive it was already seeping through all of them. All they could do though was go investigate for themselves while the dead Raptors grew less and less as they proceeded along Hanover.

"Ho..." The Hawkeye awed quietly as their steps slowed, eyes paralyzed at the bell tower that was no more. Natasha could feel her blood run cold as her gaze followed the large chunks of debris and Raptors that dispersed along the park.

"Oh my god...," Natasha let the words roll from her tongue as a gasp with a rare flash of complete terror ripping through her insides. "Steve, they could be buried," she finished acute, coming to stand beside the Captain before he immediately sped off with Natasha and Clint's legs carrying them right behind him.

"STARK!" Steve screamed with panic chorusing in his voice. "Fan out, we need to find them," the soldier demanded, gesturing towards the two assassin before he rampaged off among the rubble, adding, "JARVIS, help us!"

"_I am bringing the Quinjet to your location now and scanning through the Starkellite,_" JARVIS chimed more frantically than Natasha had ever heard before. "_Media has also been lurking on the premises; should we keep them at a distance?"_

"Only if they get too close, but that's the least of our worries right now," the assassin finished as she scavenged through the large piles of debris. _Come on, come on, come on..._ Tony's name kept bellowing across the area as the team desperately searched for their missing teammate, but there was nothing; no cries for help, no break in the comm. Even the Hulk carefully lifted chunks before throwing it out of the way to give the coming air crafts space to land. Natasha could feel her fingers, nose, and ears growing numb as both the Quinjet and East Wind hovered overhead, shining light beams to aid in the search. Then the Quinjet's beam suddenly froze and JARVIS spoke in a very stiff, cold voice that sent a haunting chill Natasha's spine.

"_I've found them_." And that was all he said.

* * *

Fear shrilled through Steve's ears like a bullet shattering glass as he avoided the stream of blood; Natasha and Clint right behind him. "STARK!" The Iron Man was buried underneath pieces of rubble and a dead Raptor while surrounded by scattered debris. However, Steve was able to lock his eyes on the small body that lay almost beneath the leaning armor as Tony remained motionless on his side, but then – she _moved_. "JARVIS, East, ground now!" Steve ordered as he slid through the snow on his knees, coming before the downed billionaire. A shallow sob came from the girl as she tried to push herself from the damaged armor as the light beams disappeared. Though it was darker, the soldier could still make out the red on her arm. "Hang in there, sweetie; we're gonna get you out," Steve calmly said to the girl as he began pulling debris off of Tony, glaring down towards his limp, bloodied hand that peaked through the armor.

"Ge-off him." Clint growled, pulling the Raptor off their partner with Natasha's help. Searching his uniform, Steve came across his small flashlight, shining it on Tony's arm that wrapped around the girl. "Here.. Cap." The archer mumbled, kneeling beside Steve and helping him move the armored arm before gesturing towards the girl. "Come here, honey… Come here." He continued as the girl reached out to him and Clint lifted her up with a grunt, walking around Tony to Natasha. _Tony_… The name became caught in Steve's throat with a rising lump as he forced himself to look towards the girl Clint and Natasha checked on.

They desperately scanned her arm until Natasha claimed in abhorrence. "She's not bleeding… Oh my god – Steve, it's not _her_ blood."

Steve directly placed his gaze back to the suit that sparked with missing plates and exposed circuits while setting the light out of the way. "Nat, take her to East. _Hurry_." The soldier heard the Hawk insist before he lunged to join Steve again, but at the billionaire's backside. "Tony.. Tony." The Hawkeye kept calling, trying to get the man to respond as Clint slipped an arm under Tony's armpit while Steve tore off his faceplate. "_Uh… G-ah... Oh_, Steve." Clint suddenly groaned loathingly as he stopped trying to turn Tony and instead held him very still, making Steve drive his devotion towards the archer with reverence. "There's something _impaled_ in his side. Get the light – it's where he's bleeding from." He choked as if in denial while Steve rapidly reached for the light as he slipped his fingers to the billionaire's neck.

"He's still got a pulse, but it's weak," Steve compelled, feeling his heart being to race with the thriving trepidation. Shining the light a bit unsteadily, Steve could easily see the wound that Clint had found hidden under Tony's bicep. Gritting his teeth, Steve observed the large bloodied shard that barely pierced out of the torn skin where the under armor was exposed from the Alpha's attack, matted in the dark liquid. "Natasha! Natasha, we need you now! Have Superior land here immediately, bring the Hulk and officers! We need help now – Stark is _down_!" The Captain crucially clarified in a hard voice through the comm, looking down at their unconscious partner who was taking shallow breaths. They needed to get him medical attention fast… they needed _Bruce_. "HULK!" Steve cried with fear overriding him as he madly browsed the area for the green giant. Sirens blared as police cars began flooding the park and East Wind rose from the ground to leave the space for Superior.

"I'm coming, Cap, I'm coming. I'll be there as soon as I can with reinforcements." Natasha notified decisively as Steve tried to spot her through the blizzard, but there was no lucky. However, Steve believed he could see the silhouette of the Hulk near what looked to be the body of an Alpha.

"JARVIS, get our communications up with Fury." Clint spiked as he kept his hands pressured around the shard, though the object helped resist a lot of the blood. "We need to get him out of here as soon as we can." Steve listened to Clint mumble with cold breath as he kept the light shining, making the blood that was splattered on the armor glint. "Actually, Natasha, get a stretcher from the Quinjet, we'll have to carry him out of here." He finished as a gust of wind ripped through the park, making Steve lean over Tony to protect him from icy shards.

"I'm on it; officers are headed your way." The assassin informed just as Steve heard distant footsteps, glancing over his shoulder while spotting Superior beginning to lower. Five figures advanced towards Steve and Clint with bright lights, making them squint to avoid going blind.

"Captain Rogers, Agent Barton, I'm Lieutenant Candell. We're here under your orders – how can we assist you?" A male voice spoke as the group came into view with three men and two women. Steve knew they were trying to keep calm, but he could see that look in their eyes as they stood over the fallen Avenger. There was no doubt it was terrifying for them; and now these officers had to watch Clint tuck over the Iron Man with scarlet soaked gloves.

The archer made eye-contact with Steve, continuing to hold the wound, before giving a gesture as if to say _'Will you direct them?'_ Steve gave a single nod in acknowledgement as he put his light away since the officers already had plenty. "Okay, listen carefully: _he_ has been impaled. Our partner is coming back with a stretcher; we need your help getting him over to that jet," Steve began instructing as he waved his hand in the direction of the Quinjet. "We'll need only a few of you to help us with the stretcher while we take care of the suit, but the others can escort us. We need to do this as fast as we can. Got it?" Finishing, Steve looked up at the five officers as they gave nods of approval.

"If you need us to, we can clear the street and get him to the Boston hospital," Candell offered as he kneeled on one knee, keeping his flashlight on the metallic body.

Clint instantly shook his head. "No. Not a public hospital; he'll be vulnerable there. Our AI said medias been lingering, they're in the sky and could be in the streets." He stated firmly, before repeating in a slight snap along with a hand gesture. "No. If we take him to a public hospital he could become a target to hostiles. We just need you guys to help us get him into the jet and we'll be sure he gets proper treatment."

"Alright." Breathing deeply, Steve was surprised at how placid Candell's voice was, seemingly understanding the Avenger's exhaustion and frustration birthing distress. "We are here to help you in every way that we can." The Lieutenant reassured, which Steve nodded before looking back towards Clint who stripped his wet gloves from his hands.

"Steve, we need to turn him…" The Hawk said with a bothered grunt as if his fall was gradually catching back up to him. Slipping his hands carefully below the armor like the Hawk said, Steve awaited for Clint's okay as the archer reached under Tony's armpit again while still keeping a hand around the shard. Gently pushing while Clint pulled, they quickly turned Tony onto his back. "Hang in there, buddy, hang in there." Clint mumbled to the unconscious man as he repositioned his hands while looking off behind Steve.

"How is he?" Steve shot a glance over his shoulder towards Natasha as she yearned, setting the stretcher down right next to him.

"It's not good – he's been impaled. Is Bruce back?" Clint huffed as he motioned for the officers to get ready.

"He's setting up in the Quinjet now." Natasha declared in a way that sounded like she was trying to swallow a yap of horror that somehow gleamed in her eyes.

"JARVIS, open the suit now!" Steve said stringently, focusing back on Tony as the suit immediately pried itself open, revealing Tony's still body. Placing his hands under the billionaire's back, he waited for the others to get a firm grip before he began counting. "One.. two.. three." Together, they briskly lifted Tony, but as they hurriedly moved, Steve then heard a stifled cough followed by a feeble wince. Gawking down in alarm, Steve caught the faint flicker of Tony's eyelids, realizing that he was _waking up_. "_Shit_.. Tony… Tony, listen to me, listen to me, we need you to stay calm… we're gonna get you out of this," the Captain cooled, setting Tony down on the stretcher while he gave a woundable cry of agony.

"Steve, move now! Natasha and I've got the suit." Clint yelled to which Steve grabbed the first stretcher handle at his left and hoisted it up with the other three officers; marching together with Candell and one of the women leading them towards the jet. Narrowing his eyes, Steve stared through the storm, pinpointing the outline of a fully clothed Bruce as they approached the Quinjet's ramp. "Superior, locate the nearest Helicarrier – we'll need you to escort us there." The archer implored through the comm as he and Natasha trotted right behind them dragging the Iron Man suit.

"Hurry, over here." Bruce ushered as the group made their way up the slope into the warmth of the jet. They swiftly set the stretcher down on one of the two steel tables that were folded out as Tony gave an unbearable cringe. Gulping, Steve forced down the growing lump as he saw the angst that failed to be hidden on the scientist's face when red could be seen staining Tony's lips with every frail cough. "Go, go, we need to get him out of here." Bruce was stern as he shooed the officers away, overtly not caring whether or not he sounded rude. "Clint, Natasha, help us. Grab one of the corners; we need to move him to this table." He continued as the two assassins dropped the suit with a metallic bang; each of them seizing a corner of the sheet that lay between Tony and the stretcher. "Three.. two.. one." The scientist deemed as the four of them lifted the sheet with Tony releasing another miserable yelp. "Hang in there, Tony, hang in there." Bruce urged as they set their colleague down on the table. "Move the stretcher; get all the medical supplies we have on that table. JARVIS, get us in the air _now_, follow Superior." The ramp to the jet then shut and the thrusters rumbled gently as they slowly rose to meet the sky.

Steve swore he had never heard Bruce sound so scared as he bent to examine Tony with Clint at his side. Natasha did as told, setting up all the supplies they had on the table behind Bruce while Steve got rid of the stretcher. "What else can we do?" Eagerly questioning, Steve moved to the other side of Tony, suddenly falling speechless as the billionaire's condition revealed frank under the mellow lights. "_Bruce_, what else can we do?" Steve almost screamed as Bruce ignored him.

Blood clung to Tony's hands and could be seen darkening the black and grey of his flight suit while he shivered involuntarily from the abiding shock. "Blankets… get some blankets, Steve." The doctor finally answered, briefly glancing up at the soldier before continuing to survey the shard. Steve jogged to a cabinet at the back of the jet, quickly opening it to reveal several blankets before grabbing three and making his way back to Bruce, setting them down on the supplies table. "_Ah_… Looks like a piece of shrapnel or debris; I can't tell how deep it is though." Bruce grimaced as he carefully fingered around the wound and ripped fabric until Tony flinched, screaming through gritted teeth and taking deep, shaky rasps. "Okay, okay, Tony, Tony. Get some gauze and an oxygen mask." Taking his helmet and gloves off, Steve couldn't resist reducing to his knees so he was level with the billionaire; curling his hand over Tony's in an attempt to comfort him while Natasha brought over an oxygen tank and Clint gave a load of gauze sponges to Bruce.

"Tony.. Tony, stay with us, come on, stay with us," Steve couldn't help but plead as he instantly stood up when Tony coughed almost breathlessly with his lips growing redder. Oh, how Steve wished for the sweet sound of bantering or a sly look within Tony's eyes, but there was nothing; all he could see was pain and apprehension.

"He's coughing up blood?" Natasha asked quietly, setting the tank on the floor as she came to stand beside Steve. She looked… disturbed and it wasn't that none of them were because this was _Tony Stark_ who's struggling escalated with each and every torturous breath; however, Natasha always held her emotions and she was brilliant at it, but this time it seemed her control was slipping from the bar.

Grabbing a small flashlight that resembled Steve's, Bruce waved it over Tony's mouth. "_Awe, man_." He dreaded under his breath before continuing in murmur. "_Yeah_… This is bad; there must be internal damage… _Dammit_… Mask him." Pressing his lips together, Steve watched Natasha carefully slip the mask over Tony's nose and mouth while he gave another deep wince, forcing Bruce to frantically search through the supplies. "Clint, I need your knife." Bruce suddenly said to which Clint immediately handed the small blade to the scientist without any question. As soon as Bruce obtained the knife, he leaned over Tony and grabbed the neck of the flight suit, quickly cutting through the material down to his belly-button and along his arms; peeling the clothing out of the way as his torso lay exposed, painted in blood and branded with a fresh scar at his heart where his arc reactor once existed. Steve could feel a mere drop of water clogging in his eye as he observed the others who were completely focused on Tony, but he knew the havoc leaked through their minds. Tony had _finally_ been freed of the shrapnel that strayed within him; he was looking _so_ good, but here he was again a few short months after the removal with an even larger piece lodge in the side of his chest. "JARVIS, scan him." Bruce then commanded, sticking a few electrodes on Tony's chest that lead from a monitor hanging from the Quinjet's ceiling. The soldier eyed Bruce as he pressed several gauzes around the shard as softly as he could, but then expeditiously flocked beside Tony's head, viciously snapping his fingers when the billionaire's eyes drooped shut. "No, no, no. Tony, Tony… Come on, I know, buddy, I know." Bruce desperately empathized as Steve shook the billionaire's hand, a panicked shrieked broiling its way up his throat until Tony slit his eyes and blinked with a moan of discomfort.

Right then JARVIS pulled a holographic diagram up on the screen. _"Apparently the shrapnel fractured the seventh rib and broke the sixth before it penetrated diagonally through his lung."_ Mental paralysis seemed to shatter through every thread of life as the monitor showed the poor inflating and deflating of Tony's lungs with the ridged shrapnel pierced sickeningly deep within the left air sac. Steve could see the sinking faces of Natasha, Clint, and Bruce as the grim news divulged them. _"Blood is beginning to leak from the inner wall of the lung while air is starting to leak out. The pressure in his chest cavity is gradually increasing and if untreated his left lung will collapse. The nearest Helicarrier is approximately one-hundred and ninety two miles from here, about fifteen minutes if we go at Mach 1."_

Kneeling down beside Tony again, Steve let his forehead touch both of their hands while shutting his eyes; Bruce looked almost defeated while he formed a frustrated fist. "Fifteen minutes?" Steve gleamed up again as Bruce breathed timidly; nearly covering his eyes with his hand before noticing the slight blood that blemished on it. "Do it." He muttered to the AI, and there was suddenly a small kick that could be felt; at least Tony designed it to be gentle even if they were going supersonic. Impulse, Bruce then turned to Clint. "Clint, keep pressure on the wound; do it as careful as you can, he's already in excruciating pain – and keep him conscious, I need to talk to Fury." The scientist hesitantly took his gaze from Tony, sauntering off towards the front of the jet before adding. "Natasha, put some gauze on his shoulder." Steve's eyes veered over to the claw marks on Tony's shoulder; most of the blood was dried now, but Natasha still did as the doctor asked.

"Nat, will you get me a chair, please." The archer asked almost apologetically since they were suddenly asking her to do everything, but to Steve she didn't seem to care considering the dire situation. Natasha did bring chairs, though, for both of them and Steve gladly settled in one, hand still clinched around Tony's. "Hey, hey, Tony, Tony, stay with us, buddy, come on." Clint began snapping his fingers at Tony's ear the way Bruce did as the billionaire's eyes closed again; there was a longer period before they opened, but they did, thankfully.

"Tony… We're gonna get you out of this." The Widow tried reassuring with an anemic whimper preceding a weak cough from Tony. Steve squeezed Tony's hand faintly, trying to signal that they were there for him while Natasha wrapped her fingers around his other hand, leaning with her back against the table ledge; next to Clint as he remained seated and pressurizing the laceration.

Bruce strolled past Clint and Natasha, placing a light hand on Tony's shoulder as Steve heard him start talking in a softer voice with a phone at his ear; beginning in a drastic pace as conversation made due between him and Fury. The soldier laid his other hand on Tony's forearm, his skin pullulating cold and clammy while his harrowing outcries grew more frequent. Steve could feel the intensifying panic slinking itself to destroy any thought of hope they were trying to hold onto. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know hurts, I'm sorry." Clint mumbled severely as if he were about to cry while Steve watched Bruce gravely move back over to Tony with a fearful look to his eyes, excessively wishing there was something to be done for the afflicting misery that raveled their friend, but there was nothing… Tony was _suffering_ and there was _nothing_ they could do for him but watch in tribulation and at least keep him breathing until they reached the Helicarrier.

* * *

Sucking in a deep breath, Clint glanced up towards the screen; half of it showing Tony's vitals and the other half showing the lung diagram. The axiom of emotion blurred his vision and cut out the periled ache of his body as he stared at the shard spearing between his scarlet hands. _"No, you don't understand, he is fading from us – they need to be ready right when we get there."_ Clint fixed his gaze past Natasha to where Bruce continued to pace, speaking crudely, before he exchanged a look with her. He could see she was trying to hide the sorrow as she held Tony's hand while he progressed in painful rasps; cold sweat straying along his chest with the trembling gradually growing worse. "Bruce… he's starting to go into shock." The archer mimicked Steve's grimace as the Captain spoke, trying to get Bruce to come back over and help them.

Clint desperately wished he could hold Tony's hand and just tell him that he was going to be alright, but his hands were covered. "Tony…" Clint absurdly groused, but all words conjested with the tears welling in his throat from the fatal truth that Tony was _dying_.

There was sudden movement out of the corner of Clint's eyes as Natasha laid two of the blankets below Tony's chest. "Tony… Come on, hang in there." Natasha said as Tony convulsed another wet cough, her voice obstructing with anticipation. Clint wanted to tell her so badly that it was okay; it was okay this one time because out of it all Tony was important to them, he was a part of their lives and there'd be _emptiness_ without him.

"_Yeah, the left lung – he'll probably need a transfusion, he's lost a lot of blood."_ Bruce complied, running a hand through his curly hair with a sigh before finishing. _"Alright, we'll meet you there."_ The scientist hung up the phone, slipping it in his pocket as he walked back over beside Clint after passing him some more gauze. "Hey, Tony…" Bruce's voice was suddenly so gentle, settling a hand on Tony's upper arm while claiming a seat on the armrest of Clint's chair. Clint could feel the premonition waft as the team watched Bruce make direct eye-contact with Tony's dulling irises which held a look that almost spoke '_I can't take much more of this…_' "I know, buddy, I know… Just hang in there." Bruce supplicated as he quickly moved his eyes to the monitor before landing them on the team. Clint let his eyes fall over Tony's chest, watching the effete rise and fall while Bruce spoke. "Fury is going to meet us at a Helicarrier called the Odyssey; there's not much more we can do for Tony until we get there. They're prepping an O.R. for hi-"

"No, no! Tony! Tony!" Steve was suddenly screaming dementedly as Tony's chest shuddered still, making the alarms go berserk, but there was _no_ flatling. Flaring, Clint shifted his eyes over to Tony's closed ones, standing and frantically shaking the billionaire's arm while all of them madly snapped and shouted his name.

"Breathe, breathe, breath, Tony, _breathe_. Come on, stay with us." And then his eyes cracked again, drawing in an exhausted and sufferable wheeze as Bruce begged at his ear; relieving the room of the fear that churned at their stomachs. Tony then tried shifting his back, crying out in agitation as Steve held his hand like a little kid and Bruce's face softened, though it held all of the terror in thought that they were losing their friend. "It's hurting him just to breathe." Bruce then said in realization, kneeling beside the table like Steve had done. Clint could feel his heart split in heartbreak as he replaced the bloodied gauze with new ones; it hurt Tony so much just to breathe that he was _exhausted_ of it. "Tony… Look at me.. Tony, look at me." The doctor's voice was delicate as Tony made it a last effort to actually look at him with a breathy wince. "I know you're exhausted and every breath is agony – Tony, Tony, come on…" Bruce began, desperately trying to help the billionaire fight the slithering abyss. The thing though was that Tony was trying, he was _despondently_ trying to fight it, but it just wasn't enough as his eyes finally rolled back to the darkness.

* * *

_I thank you for your time and hoped you enjoyed **Despondency**. __I know I left the chapter kinda cliffhanger-ish, but that's what I do. _Feel free to leave a review and I'll most likely see you guys the following Wednesday!

_-Learlorde _


	4. Alive

_Greetings,_

_Yes, it has been quite a while, but welcome back to another chapter! First off, I apologize for this chapter being updated a day late. My personal life has been crazy, my sister is going off to college, so there is a lot to do to get ready for another grad party. I know every other week is a long time for an update to some of you, but unfortunately, that's going to be my new schedule. See, I have ADD and that just makes everything more difficult because it's hard for me to focus and I get distracted easily, even if I'm really into what I'm writing. Just think of how easily Tony gets distract - yup, that's me :D. Also, school will be starting in a few weeks and it'll just be extra difficult because I'll be juggling homework, writing, and even a play I'm considering joining. So, I'd really appreciated it if you guys flowed with me on this and I promise I'll get a chapter out every other Wednesday, if I can. Secondly, I think this I'm going to do either one or two more chapters before I take this story from the top. Thirdly, I adore all the support I'm getting for this story and I hope I continue to make you guys happy. This chapter may not be as badass, but it's still got heart and I hope it lives up to your expectations! And with that, I introduce to you Chapter 4 for the preview series for Veiled of the Truth: **Alive**. Enjoy :)_

_*RIP, Robin Williams 1951-2014: Branded in this Earth's memory for all eternity - A legendary inspiration to us all with a heart of gold and a beautiful soul._

_-Learlorde_

* * *

4

Alive

* * *

Hopelessness was a conspiracy. It was the thing that shattered all lasting chains of hope; corrupting the very essence of sanity into insanity. Bruce knew that; he had experienced it first hand when his psyche was suddenly shared by two. For the longest of time Bruce felt lost; it was a fight through fog to once again belong in a world where he was feared. It became easier overtime, though, and Bruce eventually got out; things were better. However, that was before he got the craziest invite back into the sea of abnormalities and Bruce became paranoid; he expected to get dirty looks and be avoided, but that wasn't so. Sure they were cautious, but they didn't exactly shun him; and then there was Tony Stark. The doctor had heard of the legendary man - _who hadn't?_ - and it was quite the honor to work beside him; the thing Bruce hadn't expected was the Iron Man's ego. The others seemed irritated with him at first, but Bruce didn't mind; he found the billionaire quite amusing, though he could be a _bit_ arrogant, but the thing that surprised the scientist was that Tony Stark _supported_ him. At the time Bruce denied it all because he was scared, but he liked it; he enjoyed that wave of support and apparently so did the Hulk because that support ultimately saved Tony in the end.

Preparation was _necessary_. That seemed to root itself more and more into protocol as certain missions grew more hazardous, but what exactly should the team be prepared for? The _'what ifs'_ always settled themselves in the dust about preparation. What if _this_ happened? What if _that_ happened? Bruce remembered one case where Natasha got badly grazed at the side and nearly shot down from the Quinjet when they were taking off. It may have not been as nerve-racking as the sudden need for sacrifice, but it was just as _unexpected_. That was the real moment when the team realized that they needed to be prepared in case something like that ever happened again, more practically if something _worse_ than that ever happened again. Preparation was overrated, though, wasn't it? However, Bruce knew it was just the paranoia that they hoped that nothing worse than that would ever happen; but then Bruce was wrapped in a blanket and Natasha was in front of him barking that Tony had been _injured_.

Bruce wasn't a soldier; he'd never been put in a situation where he could lose a comrade. That all changed, though, when the words _'he's been impaled'_ traveled through the comm Bruce stuffed back in his ear. _Impaled._ There wasn't even enough time to digest the sudden stab to the heart before the dismay became reality as Steve carried the stretcher onto the jet with three officers. Bruce could feel his insides stiffening in shock as his eyes landed on Tony who just laid there _covered_ in blood; crying with inept wails from the torrid pain that ripped from the sliced muscle, bone, vessels and nerves of his body. Luckily, Bruce's head seemed to be more prepared than his heart because barely any moment had passed before Tony was suddenly on the table and the doctor could see the flesh that was severed from the jagged shard. The consternation pillaged through Bruce's blood; and he could feel his skin filtering white with despair. _How – what could he do?_ He knew the anatomy through biology, he helped cure _sick_ people in Calcutta, but he wasn't a surgeon. Tony's condition was disintegrating madly and there wasn't much Bruce could do for him. What if Bruce _failed_? What if Tony _died_ before they reached the Helicarrier? Bruce took a deep breath, knowing the blinding taunts would give no mercy to leave time. He was no surgeon; he was no God that could heal, but he could at least try keeping the billionaire _alive_ or they would surely lose him.

"Breathe, breathe, breathe, Tony, _breathe._ Come on, _stay with us._" The scientist bawled in climacteric orison, his eyes swallowing the pit of hopelessness that grew solid from its once transparent state. Bruce then he felt the carbon leave his lungs, falling to his knees when Tony's eyes barely cracked and the billionaire drew in a painful breath with an agitated wince. Shakily, the doctor rested an arm beside Tony's bicep before settling his right hand on his shoulder; his skin shivering from the condensation of shock. "It's hurting him just to breathe," Bruce enlightened without rounding his gaze on the others; watching and listening in qualm as Tony took as little breaths as possible to avoid the torturous pain, even if assisted by the oxygen mask. To Bruce's knowledge, every expansion of his lungs just tugged at the shard even more, gradually cutting it deeper into his flesh. "Tony… Look at me.. Tony, look at me." Tony merely tipped his head towards Bruce, letting his weak eyes faintly gleam as the doctor murmured. Exchanging a glance with Steve, Bruce could feel his partners' watering eyes darting anxiously at him; awaiting for the words he was to say, hoping it'd be enough to spare the desperately needed time for their dying colleague. "I know you're exhausted and every breath is agony – _Tony, Tony, come on_…" Bruce fiercely pleaded as calmly as he could through gritted teeth while Tony faded in and out of consciousness. "Listen to me… We nearly lost you once; we're not gonna lose you again. We _need_ you – _look at me, Tony, come on, look at me_ – In or out of the suit, you are an _Avenger_ and we'll be _lost_ without you. After New York, when we were struggling to just figure out where to go next; you gave us stability, you gave us a sanctuary – _Tony, stay with us, come on_ - you _gave us_ a place to call home if we needed to. And what about this world, Tony? What _about_ this world? You changed it; you _changed_ mankind for the better; you gave us _clean_ energy. This world _needs_ you, Tony Stark; we _need_ you, because if you die on us… Tony you _die on us_ and our future is _lost_!" Nearly screaming in pure desperation, Bruce then felt his voice strain with a gulp. Silence tore any remaining shred of happiness from the world as the mood of them all fell to complete defeat. The scientist could feel his bottom lip rippling in a dreaded tremble. "W-We'll be lost... Tony.. Tony... Please.. Tony..." And he was gone.

-o-

The room was quiet; no sound of laughter like there should have been and instead held the drifting aroma of coffee and lasting blood. Perhaps that's what fought against the fatigue that disembogued amongst the four of them, along with the shock that had suddenly knocked the breath out of them like a train on a track. Failure was a horrendous feeling; it for sure settled itself somewhere within the shock and the smells that branded the gruesome event as a bloodied gash upon the team's dearest memories. They had failed, they had _failed_ to keep their teammate conscious; they had _lost_ Tony. He was still with them, but only by a severing thread and now all they could do was wait. Wait for what though? The news that Tony never made it off the table or that he indeed barely escaped the jaws of death, but not without mental and physical scars?

Bruce released a silent and exhausted sigh, letting gravity pull his fist against the soft leather armrest of the chair he claimed. And what about this team? There was no way they could survive without their own scarring as the dreaded night crippled over and over in their minds; all the blood and suffering that forced the tears to gather in the corners of their eyes. The doctor lifted the warm styrofoam cup to his lips, taking a sip of the pleasurable coffee before his gaze fell over his partners; they had been cleaned up and bandaged where they needed to be. Steve and Natasha shared the sofa with her legs lying over the soldier's lap, fumbling with their fleece blanket while the Captain rested his head on his elbow. Clint occupied the other sofa, leaning with his back against the armrest and his head tilted towards the back of the furniture. Giving another sigh that was a bit more audible, Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his tired eyes. They did well, even in a critical situation they were able to pull themselves together… mostly; but Clint seemed to be taut the most. There was no accusation, though, and it was a clear vision the moment Tony was rolled from their clutches; leaving them with the _great_ Tony Stark's blood on their hands.

"Something wrong?" The soothing soft of Natasha's voice gracefully broke the dreaded silence, almost startling everyone from their dazed state of shock. Bruce turned his head slightly to see the red of her hair, but her eyes were still focused on the trimming of the blanket. _Hmm?_ That was all Bruce mustered through his beaten vocal cords in mutual humming. "You sighed." She explained quietly.

The intensity had simmered slightly. Of course, they were barely out of the woods, but at least the billionaire was in some extremely skilled hands; and even if he happened to code, they would be able to get him back. "Just…," Bruce paused with a huff, running his fingers through his hair before he met with their eyes. "You guys did well...," he finished tenderly, setting his hand back on the armrest.

There was a shallow pause as if they didn't exactly know how to respond to that because they did what they had to do. "You too." Steve answered gently as Bruce looked down at his hand. "It was well said… What you said to Tony. It just… it made all the difference." The scientist shifted his eyes towards the super-soldier, who spoke with a tint of churlish while reaching over Natasha's legs for his cup of tea on the coffee table.

Bruce let his gaze space out in his cup of coffee, scratching at the styrofoam lightly with his nail as Steve's words reached the drums of his ears. He hesitated, but allowed his head a mere shake in disagreement. "It didn't make all the difference," uttering, Bruce couldn't help but feel guilty. "We still lost him and that just made it all the worse; he was barely alive by the time we got here... There shouldn't be four here waiting to hear the fate of our teammate; there should five at the tower, celebrating our victory." Bruce fisted the armrest before leaning back and covering his face with his hand; wishing that there was some impossible way to undo what had already been done, but Bruce knew that was foolish because there wasn't.

* * *

Steve didn't know what to say. He attempted to exchange a glance with Natasha, but she still played with the feathers of the blanket that covered them. Bruce wasn't entirely right or wrong; he was grieving, they all were. The Captain had seen it plenty of times out on the field; soldiers blaming themselves or their partners for the death or injury of a dear comrade; all that emotion boiling into frustration, anger, and depression. Steve held the warm cup in his hands, trying to think of what to say, but Clint's voice spoke from the blue. "Bruce… Don't do that.. please." The three instantly flocked their eyes towards Clint; Bruce slitting his fingers to see between them. The archer had muted himself ever since Tony was no longer conscious; he was in so much shock that they literally had to walk him to the restrooms once Tony was in the hands of the surgeons. "We did what we could for Tony – we got him here _alive_, he was still _alive_; and that's what matters. It made all the difference because it gave him a better chance for survival… Even if they do call it, he knows what he meant to us; but the thing is that they haven't and that is something." He finished, staring towards Bruce, pulling his blanket farther over his chest.

"Well said… it's good to hear your voice." Steve heard Bruce reply with a slightly relieved tone while the soldier took another sip of his tea. Stretching his legs out on the little table, Steve settled himself into the comfy cushions, making Natasha readjust her legs for him.

"I'd rather be hearing Tony's voice." Clint then sighed, laying his head back against the arm of the sofa. _True to that…_ They all preferred the sweet sound of his warm voice, making the absence of his presence just truthfully undesirable. "He makes it out of this; he'll have to go through with it… we'll have to go through with it, but what's done is done… there's no going back." Rolling his shoulders, Steve shifted, watching Bruce remove his hand from his face and Natasha looking back down; accepting the truth that the Hawk spoke. "We've been so focused asking ourselves what we could have done that… Maybe one of us could have done something or one of us should have gone with him…" Clint broke from a sturdy voice to a trailing one, trying to accept this horrible occurrence, but it was too soon. "… That we're being selfish; forgetting that he's still in there fighting for his life…" He choked, obviously losing his voice before rounding the strength to finish. "… and that things aren't going to be the same after this.. Are they?" Steve met the archer's eyes that were beginning to well with water as they bounced between all of them until they landed on Bruce.

They were all quiet as Bruce finally worked up his reply. "Maybe not." Just as he finished, the slick _whoosh_ of the glass doors to the lounging room slid open, forcing all of them to immediately pop their heads up anxiously. It was Fury; slowly walking towards them in his usual suit or what Tony called his _'casual wardrobe'_. Apparently, he was on another Helicarrier farther towards the Gulf of Mexico when Bruce reached him. "Hey." Bruce welcomed quietly. The Director wasn't the type to get emotional, but for some reason he looked a bit shaken to Steve's knowledge; getting a sudden call to hear that one of his Avengers was barely hanging in there, when just a short while ago he was his normal self. Shocking; that's what it was.

"Hey… Anything?" Nick asked, coming to a halt a few yards from the team and scanning them with his single eye with his hands resting on his hips.

"Nothing. He's been in there for about forty-five minutes." Natasha sighed, making Fury go into a disappointed pace before moving his way over to the counter where the coffee station awaited.

"And what about you four?" He asked, glancing over his shoulder before fixing himself a cup. _What about the four of them?_ They all recoiled from answering, retreating to the warmth of their blankets and the relaxing, shallow lights of the room. It was pretty obvious how they were doing; absolutely f... Shitty. Steve bit his tongue to avoid dropping an f-bomb, even if it were in silent thought. "Mmm... I know how it can be in situation like this." Fury went on as he crossed over to an empty chair beside Clint's sofa. "What happened out there?" He then asked calmly enough to the point where it took Steve by surprise.

Steve exchanged a glance with his teammates, who really didn't have the energy or motive to speak of the night whether it was about Tony or the battle, but then Clint chimed. "It was pretty bad, but we still have no idea what those things were and if they're attempting to come back." The archer sullenly winced, seeking to sit up, but Steve could see him lapsing due to the large bruises that had formed under his clothing.

Supporting his head in his hand, Steve didn't really want to discuss this at the moment, but they did have to think about it; how the world was going to process another attack; what SHIELD was going to do to increase global security; what was going to go through research and development? "Maybe there's a way to contact Thor, he may know what those things were; he identified the Chitauri for us," Steve suggested, rubbing his face before glancing towards Fury.

"The only problem is we don't know how to contact him. We may have to just improvise for now until we can get ahold of him." Natasha informed, bending sideways to reach for her mug.

"Can we not discuss this right now, please." The scientist murmured a bit agitated, making everyone's eyes shift towards him. Steve sighed... Bruce was right; there was an appropriate and an inappropriate time for this conversation. They could discuss this tomorrow after they've earned their rest and received the news on Tony.

"Of course." Fury nodded, seeming to understand that this was actually _hard_ for them; so instead he leaned back. "Wasn't he just in surgery?" It was a short period before the Director finally asked while staring into his coffee.

Bruce gradually moved his head up and down before he confirmed. "About six weeks ago." He sighed, continuing. "They recommended about eight to twelve weeks before Tony did anything _'drastic'_; to be sure all the muscle and tissue grew back with the sternum plating they constructed on his ribcage. It replaced the reactor's protection for the missing bone that was removed during the original injury." Bruce explained the details to Tony's previous surgery. Nobody could attend the appointment to directly support Tony with Pepper and Rhodey, but apparently Bruce had been able to get there for most of it. They weren't given all the details, but they knew that he was going to be alright as long as they kept a close eye on him; made sure nothing took a wrong turn during his recovery. "He was _still _recovery - is _still_ recovery. He's still had to take pain medication and blood thinners… and now there's this - I shouldn't have even made the call that he could come." Bruce finished with snort of frustration, evidently still feeling the guilt.

"Bruce, Tony insisted he'd be alright. Even I doubted him, but we _needed_ him and I admit; Tony was doing fine, he stuck to his word and to his limits. What happened had to have been completely coincidental-" Natasha strongly began, trying to convince the scientist to cut the crap, but then he cut her off.

"_No_ – What happened was not coincidental; what happened to Tony is all on those… _things_." Bruce spat loudly, jumping to the edge of his seat. Steve could see everyone a bit taken aback by the man's sudden flash of temper which the soldier was about to counter calmly before Fury could make his move; because for some reason the Director didn't have the right touch towards Bruce, but the Hawk beat him to it.

"Exactly, it's _their_ fault. Stop trying to take the blame of it all, Bruce. I'd like blame myself for what happened, because maybe I could have done something to prevent Tony from getting a shard through his _chest_; but I can't because that's selfish. Tony wouldn't want any of us blaming any of _us_ or ourselves for what happened to him, you _know_ that! And we should respect that; do it for _him_, Bruce, stop blaming yourself for _him_." Clint managed to sit up and swing his legs off the sofa with a painful cringe as he retorted rationally; taking a deep breath after his verbal rampage and clinching his right side.

Bruce bit his bottom lip, still holding the piling rage of guilt on his face until it suddenly ceased from existence as he asked softly. "Do you need an ice pack?" The archer had refused their offer earlier, but it looked like he was regretting his decision.

"Yes." He probably would have whimpered if Fury wasn't there, but he apparently forced himself to instead vocal hoarsely.

Both Bruce and Fury surprisingly rose at the same time. "I've got it." The Director asserted, setting his coffee aside as he walked back over to the counter. "So what about Pepper? How's she holding up?" He then questioned as Steve watched Bruce place his coffee on the table and claim a seat beside Clint, laying a hand on the Hawk's shoulder.

Oh, Pepper... JARVIS really did the group a favor in notifying her. "She's been in Sydney, Australia, conferencing about building a Stark Tower there. I was able to convince the pilot to head in that direction to cut the distance for her travel. Luckily, Pepper requested to take the new prototype for the Quinjet, which Tony didn't refuse. She could possibly be here in a few short hours rather than twenty for a regular flight." Steve could hear a shallow chuckle operating from Bruce's throat. "It's quite amazing what he can do, isn't it?" The scientist praised Tony's work with a sorrowful impression in his voice as Fury made his way over to Bruce with a large ice pack wrapped in a towel, along with a stretchable strap.

"It sure is… We're lucky he's one of us." The Director sighed, looking down at the ice pack in his hand before handing it to Bruce. "Here, I need to take care of some things on the bridge. Keep me posted?" He asked as Bruce took the toweled ice pack and strap, passing his gaze across all of them.

"Defiantly, Nick." Natasha reassured to which Fury nodded in thanks before sauntering back out of the room. "Need any help?" She asked the doctor, getting up and moving the warm blanket from Steve's body; to which he immediately scrambled to pulled the gorgeous fleece back on him.

"Yeah, go on the other side of Clint... Okay, up for a moment." Bruce answered before instructing Clint as he pouted displeasingly, but he sorely stood. "Just pull this around him and hand it back to me." He continued, curling the ice pack over Clint's shirt and around the right side of his ribcage before handing the black strap to Natasha.

"Oh, that's cold… _Ouch!_ Careful, man." Clint yelped as Bruce and Natasha wrapped the strap around him twice before sealing it with the velcro to keep the pack hugging the archer's side. Suddenly, he then hissed amusingly. "I look ridiculous." Steve actually kind of had to agree, but then the archer's growing smile faded as if he realized Tony wasn't there to start their regular bantering war.

There was a period of silence that followed Clint's sentence as Bruce helped him back onto the sofa and Natasha crawled underneath the blanket beside Steve with her legs over his lap again. "Listen… I apologize for my behavior; it isn't fair to anyone." Bruce confessed, watching Clint as he pulled his blanket back over him.

"There's no need to apologize, Bruce… We're all a bit out of our league tonight," Steve murmured, trying to assure him.

"True to that." Clint agreed delicately, allowing Bruce to return to his chair.

Steve leaned his head back, savoring the warmth and quiet. He released a sigh, letting his eyes close from the fatigue that haunted him for so long. The caffeine wasn't working fast enough and he wished it did because he urged to stay awake in case something happened. And though sleep tempted him, he opened his eyes; he'd done this plenty of times during the long nights in the trenches, praying they wouldn't get ambushed. Steve knew he could do it again and he would for Tony; so he let his gaze fall over to the dragging clock, watching it tick ever so slowly into the second hour of the new day, and praying silently to the dear lord for the life of his friend.

* * *

The night endlessly pressed on through several cups of tea and coffee… and a few tablets of aspirin; drifting in and out of a sleep that was never real, just waiting and waiting as the big hand perceptively rotated around and around without any news on Tony at all. Clint stared at the ceiling while listening to the soft conversation that thrived amongst Natasha, Bruce, and Steve; trying to avoid the afflicting ache of his ribs and the desperate screaming of his body that needed sleep. He gave a deep sigh; unfortunately, his will was beginning to lose. As he closed his eyes, though, there was a sudden _whoosh_ that immediately left the conversation of his teammates dead the very second Clint's eyes shot open. Failing to bend his head far enough to get a proper glimpse, the three of them just announced it all when they slowly stood up; making Clint push himself to a sit, expecting to see a surgeon, but instead it was the sleek frame of Pepper.

Clint was able to rise, supporting himself against the armrest while clenching his side as Steve, Natasha, and Bruce walked around the coffee table until they met with Pepper a few feet from him. "Pepper." Natasha said lightly, offering a hug to the women which she did not decline. It was clear Pepper had been crying as she wiped the wavy hair from her red eyes. For some reason, Clint felt the most guilt watching Steve and Bruce proceed in comforting hugs because how were they to address this to her? Yes, she knew what was going on, but they were responsible for Tony this time. _Hey, Pepper, yeah… uh, guess what… we kinda got your boyfriend under the knife because we brought him along with us when we really shouldn't have. _They were responsible for making the call that Tony could come with them. Clint swallowed, remembering what he had told Bruce about not blaming themselves. "Here, come sit down." The assassin then ushered the CEO over to the chair beside Clint.

"Do you need me to get you anything? Tea, coffee, water?" Steve offered, walking alongside them as they stopped.

"Tea, please." She breathed, sending the soldier off towards the counter before her eyes met with Clint's. "What happened to you?" Pepper asked with a light grin which Clint couldn't help but feel a bit better, allowing a shallow smirk back.

"I fell," he answered with a hearty huff as she wrapped her arms around him, in which he returned; though all that blared in his brain was: _Owwwwwwwwww_… Pepper let him go as Bruce came beside him with the ice pack that they had taken off, obviously having seen the jolting pain that expressed on his face. "Thank you," Clint cleared his throat, lifting up his arms so Bruce could wrap the pack onto his side while Steve rejoined them, handing Pepper her tea as she sat down to wait out the rest of the night with them.

-o-

The big hand was well into five o'clock when the final _whoosh_ came. The five of them had made small talk to pass the tedious time. Bruce had gotten Pepper to talk about Australia, but somehow that subject turned into Tony. Nothing bad, but good things and funny things that he did; it even came to the point where they couldn't help but break out in laughter. However, that suddenly died as the surgeon advanced towards them and they all pulled themselves to their feet. Anxiously rubbing his hands together, Clint ignored the searing at his ribs as he leaned against the armrest. Pepper had grabbed Natasha's hand while Bruce and Steve took a few steps forward so they were all together to receive whatever crucial news the surgeon had to give.

Stopping a few feet from them, the surgeon crossed his arms and cleared his throat before finally speaking. "Mr. Stark is out of surgery; he's stable, but we're not out of the woods." A wave of relief just _swept_ itself through their minds, taking that burden of complete fear from their souls. However, they held their tongues to allow the surgeon to finish since he ended on _'but we're not out of the woods.'_ "He actually coded once, but he was alright after that. He lost a lot of blood, but we've been giving him transfusions - we're going to get him another one. My guys are setting him up in a room; we're going to keep him in the ICU for about a week to be sure there aren't any complications, but after that you guys may decide whether you want to keep him here or airlift him to another facility. Lastly, we're going to keep him sedated – just for about twenty-four hours until his heart rate levels out so when we get him breathing on his own it's not going to stress out his lungs. Besides that, he should make a full recovery." Pepper gave a huff of relief aside from the horror that Tony had technically legally died for who knows how long.

"…'Kay... May I see him?" Pepper then swallowed, taking a deep breath as she placed a hand over her chest.

"Of course, follow me." The surgeon responded, backing up until he turned, leading the five out of the room and down the dark corridor. Clint trailed beside Steve as the white lights of a room grew closer. Something was wrong, though; Clint could feel it getting harder and harder to take another step as his head suddenly felt hot. He couldn't do this; he didn't want to see his friend strapped to wires and tubes, all patched together with stitches and bloody gauze.

"Clint." The archer looked up into Bruce's eyes, realizing he had stopped in his tracks and the others were still continuing down the hall. "Go get some rest." Clint was about to protest, feeling like he would be a coward for running away, but Bruce didn't give him the chance. "It's alright, we'll look after him." Looking down, Clint then nodded, walking away with one last glance towards the room where Natasha stood outside while Steve disappeared into it with Pepper. Clint didn't know how his feet carried his exhausted and sore body, but somehow he managed to make it to his room on another floor.

Immediately, he fell onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as his brain still processed the lasting details of the night. For a long moment, Clint just laid there; afraid to let himself fall asleep because he somehow feared that when he'd wake up, Tony would be dead. Out of it all, he had still _died_. What if this part was the dream in which he actually made it when he really didn't? Clint snorted in disgust: that was completely idiotic… Tony was okay; he was stable; he was _alive_. Tony was _alive_ and that's what mattered.

* * *

_Thank you for your time and I hope you enjoyed Chapter 4 of the preview series for Veiled of the Truth: **Alive**. Feel free to leave a review and I'll see you guys in a few weeks!_

_-Learlorde_


	5. No End

_Greetings,_

_Well - that took longer than I expected! Welcome back guys and I'm sorry once again for my tardiness. It's been crazy; I was at my family's lake house for a week (which I got bit by a huge bass I caught and my hand was bleeding everywhere, but the fish was fine: catch and release), we moved my sister into college on Thursday (Go Wolverines!), and school will be starting Tuesday. This, plus my writing, has made me decide to erase a specific release day for my chapters and just release them when I can because things happen and it also depends on how long the chapters end up being; I didn't expect this chapter to be so abundant, but I needed to end it right which took me an extra couple of days. I apologize for this, but it just all depends on how life will work Junior year. I appreciate your patience with me and your support; I'm estimating perhaps two, three, or maybe four weeks between releases (again, it all depends on the time I have and how long they are since my chapter capacity keeps growing.) Anyway, I was thinking of releasing another chapter, but I believe I'm ready for to start this from the beginning. I will comply that the main series may be written differently now that I've got a clear view of the plotline. When I publish the main series, I may either remove this one or label; but I think I will most likely remove it. Again, thank you so much to those of you who have waited patiently and supported this fanfiction. So wrapping this up, I reveal to you chapter five of the preview series for Veiled of the Truth: **No End**. Enjoy! :)_

_-Learlorde_

* * *

5

No End

* * *

Peaceful... Awful... Twisted into an emerged feeling of emotion both physically and mentally... Groggily coughing, Clint stiffly stirred to a sub-conscious state with that exact sensation of awful peacefulness. It was quiet and warm underneath the sheets; no other sounds or disturbances except for the blinding migraine and agony of his bruised body that just ruined it all. Grunting in discomfort, the archer pulled his hand from the warmth and to his face as he propped himself up on his left elbow. Gently rubbing his eyes, Clint attempted to glance over his shoulder towards the clock on the nightstand; but he instead found himself collapsing onto his back with a dazed wince from his throbbing head and poor ribs. Taking a long deep breath, Clint blinked his eyes until the blurred edges of his vision faded and he was left glaring up at the ceiling; trying to remember what had happened. Then he nearly screamed as he turned his head towards the empty space of the bed at his left; discovering two beady eyes gleaming at him from beneath the thick sheets and flanking the other pillow. Clint stared back at them, managing a single thought through the scrambled mess of his brain... _Dafuq?_ Reaching his hand along the silken sheets, Clint gradually wrapped his fingers around the soft, small body of whom owned the eyes; pulling it closer to him, though the dark veiled it as just a shadowed shape before the archer painfully switched the dim lamp on... It was a hawk.

It was a _hawk_... with a tan underbelly and speckled feathers of brown and white, along with a grey and black finishing. A scarlet laced ribbon collared around its neck with a small gold tag dangling from it. Running his fingers through the soft feathers, Clint examined it; not knowing whether to be completely dumbfounded on how it got in his bed or stunned at its inanimate beauty from the depth in detail. It had to be from some high quality toy brand; very expensive, indeed. For a long while, Clint held his gaze on the hawk before his eyes fell to the black penmanship inscribed on the tag which read: _I'll be watching you._ Raising an eyebrow, Clint then flipped the tag over which revealed the anonymous: _-You Know Who I Am._ If it weren't for the color decor and the familiar handwriting, Clint probably would have taken the gift as a threat, but the archer then pulled himself into a sit before resting his forehead against the hawk's; suddenly feeling the smog of his brain morph into the nightmares that had leeched itself into existence and all Clint could see was blood as he shut his eyes, trying to avoid the tears that were beginning to hamper at their corners.

Clint managed a faint tearful chuckle before he tried calming himself with a steady breath. _Tony..._ "_Oh god..._," he sniffled, pulling his head back as his eyes peeked opened. What...? How did he even...? But Tony was -, "JARVIS?" Clint suddenly blurted through a heavy breath, hoping the AI heard if he was streaming somewhere within the system.

_"Agent Barton?"_ The British accent returned shortly.

"What...," Clint trailed off, gritting his teeth with a pained flinch as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed; still holding and staring at the plush hawk.

There was a slight pause as if JARVIS was hesitating, but then he sighed. _"Ah, yes. Sir had placed the 'Watcher' there sometime during the early days of December. He thought it'd be an amusing joke."_

"_Uh-huh..._," the archer huffed, narrowing his eyes; his mind still floating amongst the clouds of confusion. "And by chance, he placed it on this specific Helicarrier?" He questioned, phasing back to square one on how Tony got the hawk in his bed and on _this_ Helicarrier.

JARVIS cleared his robotic voice before continuing in explanation. _"There are actually more of these... trinkets. See, he learned of the few Helicarriers you dock at most often during missions and decided to pay unnoticed visits; leaving a little surprise behind each time."_

"Right...," Clint murmured, drawing the animal against his abdomen before his elbow buckled to his knee; his right hand catching his face while his left arm securely held to hawk. With his fingers, the archer wiped the loose water from his eyes as he pressed on. "How'd he - _Nevermind_, I've got the basic idea," he was about to finish as he pulled the 'Watcher' out in front of him and suddenly narrowed his eyes in suspicious thought. "Is there a camera installed in it?" The Hawk then asked, knowing that a bonus like that would just add to the billionaire's enjoyment.

_"Sir thought about it, but then decided against it - even he didn't want to be a dick to individual privacy."_ Clint let his lips form into a hearty smirk before he released a gusty breath. Laying his forehead with the hawk's again, he knew he'd never look at the stuffed animal the same again. Suddenly, he didn't feel so good both physically and emotionally, not that he was at his optimal anyway. Clint didn't even know if Tony had made it through the night...

Pushing himself from the bed, Clint stumbled his way towards the bathroom; bringing the Watcher along. Reaching the doorway, the archer flicked on the soft lights; instantly shielding his eyes with his hand, feeling that his vision still held some fuzz. While massaging his eyes, Clint placed the hawk on the granite countertop, wondering why the hell he even brought it with him in the first place. Then it just got weird once Clint painstakingly pulled his t-shirt off, deciding to throw it over the toy as he undressed further and slipped into the shower.

For the longest time, Clint just sat there with his face buried within his hands; savoring the warmth that rained upon him. The night just wouldn't leave his mind; the cold, the blood, the shock, the pain... It just wouldn't go away and it hurt; his mind, his body, his heart. And he was terrified to open his eyes because he felt if he did, he'd have red hands again; but he did anyway. The archer gradually removed his hands, letting his blacked out vision revive. For the majority, Clint was wrong; his hands weren't red except for some lasting blood that was wedged under and around his fingernails. He gave a deep sigh, slowly picking at the dried crimson and watching whatever blood that had remained on his body swirl down the drain; as he had shortly before.

It was quite some time before Clint decided to actually clean himself and finally step out of the shower; eventually pulling on some jeans and a light-grey long-sleeve over the blackish-blue of his right side. The moment his empty stomach protested for food and his body for painkillers, Clint decided he looked decent enough; finally grabbing the Watcher, along with a bottle of aspirin in his closet before bothering to actually look at the clock. _Seven fucking p.m.!?_ _What the hell?_ He'd been asleep for...? _Forget it_ - he was too worn out to do math; but he needed to find the others and be sure Tony at least had a heart beat. Turning off the lights, Clint didn't even look back as he gently closed the door; and then he was alone in the deserted hallway.

Crossing his arms, Clint tried to block out the slight chill of the corridor as he made his way towards the nearest stairwell; the Bridge set in mind. Clint had sworn he looked insane walking around with a stuffed animal and an aspirin bottle in his grasp, but nobody seemed to notice. It was just so quiet and empty; even the crying of his brain carried through his ears and over the still silence. The archer even theorized that Tony had indeed not made it through the night due to the abnormal deadness. Feeling his heart treading to a race, Clint had spooked himself; forcing his sore body down the stairwell, postponing the Bridge and heading directly towards the infirmary instead.

Reaching the desired floor, Clint made his way down the corridor; keeping his eyes locked on the route the surgeon had directed them. Every step Clint took, his heart thumped even faster while the screaming of his head continued torturously; all the pain, the nightmares, his exhaustion and hunger seeping into one comprehension. It grew so bad that the archer felt himself tumble against the wall before quickly setting his head in his hands; trying to make the black patches that clogged his vision go away as he drank in slow breaths. "Agent Barton?" Clint swallowed, pulling his head up to reveal who had called from behind him; it was the surgeon from the previous night.

"Oh... _Um,_ Doctor...," Clint gently rammed his back against the wall, pinching the bridge of his nose; trying to remember the surgeon's name as he then snapped his fingers.

"Cedric Jackson." He answered simply.

"Right...," the archer ran a hand along his face, pitching his gaze towards the direction he was headed before returning it to the young man. "Uh... I-Is something wrong?" He croaked, catching the concern on Jackson's face.

"You looked pale." Jackson said bluntly, peeking down at the plush hawk before continuing. "Then I believe you were about to faint."

"I - _Uh_... Really?" Clint replied, actually acting as if he didn't realize; attempting to draw the attention away from him. It didn't really work because within the next moment Jackson's hand had entered the Hawk's personal space; landing right on his forehead. What the - _what?_ Clint nearly snapped in surprise at the sudden gesture, but he held himself there.

"You feel warm." The doctor mumbled, then placing his hand on Clint's shoulder. "Here, you should come sit down; get some rest." _Rest?_ He'd been sleeping for nearly twelve hours; but the surgeon continued moving him in the opposite direction Clint was supposed to be going. "A few of your teammates were down here earlier; I believe they mentioned heading up to the Brid-"

"Cedric!" Clint suddenly snapped, making the surgeon look slightly startled. He had halted straight in his footsteps before speaking more calmly, "I appreciate your concern, but I _need_ to see Tony. I don't care if I have to stand outside because I have a slight fever - I need to see my teammate."

Taking a breath, Clint tightened his fingers around the Watcher and the aspirin bottle; awaiting Jackson's response and hoping he wouldn't break the news that Tony hadn't made it. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize - I'll take you to him." The surgeon was quite sympathetic, but Clint felt a tad more relieved at his words. Following at Jackson's side, Clint let the man take him further down the hall. "But I still expect you'll rest, though." He then added, continuing to jab the suggestion with a sliver of humor.

Clint pinned the hawk against his abdomen with folded arms; looking down as he held the bottle in his hand. "I will, but I just – I need to see Tony," the Hawk conceded gloomily, turning his eyes to the doctor's as he gave an understanding nod before Clint directed his sight ahead of them with a sigh. Wobbling slightly, the doctor stabled Clint as he stared deeply into thought; the unspoken words stabbing his tongue in desperation. "How is this all going to play out?" Clint then questioned softly, but all he received was a look from Jackson that wilted from misunderstanding. "I mean… Tony – W.. Will he make it through this?" He finally managed, suddenly stopping as Jackson slowed and turned to face him. Sniffling, Clint had to glance away from the unfortunate expression that had overwhelmed the surgeon's features. Keeping his eyes on the tile, he didn't dare move them; instantly shutting them until Jackson elucidated.

"I… It's…" Clint could only slit his eyes, waiting for the full of the grim while squeezing the indulgent animal even tighter. "Listen… Agent Barton… This isn't going to be a walk in the park." Jackson disclosed, trying to speak as delicate as possible. "This is going to be a stormy sea in which things become unpredictable; there'll be leaks and cracks in which we can never know if the boat will even stay afloat. If all goes smoothly then, yes, he will make it through this, but… it's just too early to tell, Agent Barton. We've kept close eyes on him and we're continuing to do so, but we're… we're lucky enough he made it through the night… it was pretty bad." He finished quietly and proceeding down the hall. Clint let out a heavy sigh; taking a short moment to process the erudition before trailing behind the doctor.

Merely shaking his head, Clint rubbed his eyes and forehead, feeling the impulsive pounding of pain. Clint knew he was beginning to fade from his attentive state; effected by whatever virus had infected his cells. "How long was he gone?" He then murmured, trying to stay with the surgeon though part of Clint refused to contribute within the conversation; attempting to avoid the knowledge of what had happened in the operating room.

"Four… maybe five minutes." Jackson answered, exchanging a glance with Clint. "It was shortly after you guys brought him in… Your team did good; any later and we would have lost him permanently." He exhaled, rotating slightly as he paused beside a room that was gated by a glass wall. "It took some time to remove the shard, but there were also some bone fragments that had splintered off; both requiring us to go pretty deep… cost him an abundant of blood and we nearly lost him a second time. If the shard had gone any deeper it'd probably have pierced his heart; he would have been killed instantly."

With his feet cemented in their place, Clint let his eyes gradually drift upwards; catching the endless moment of Tony lying in his unconscious state, hooked up to wires, needles, and tubes. His soul greatly wanted to mend his eyes away from a sorrowful fear that was weaving together, but the messengers of his body wouldn't allow so; making himself understand that Tony was so weak that he couldn't survive without the artificial devices… at least not yet, hopefully. And beside the bed, curled up underneath a blanket on the white couch was Pepper; she… she didn't seem too fair either.

"How long has she been in there?" Clint muttered, watching her closely as she held an opened book; probably trying to pass the durable time that just wouldn't wear.

"From the moment we set him up." The doctor said, motivating Clint to look down at the Watcher wrapped in his hands. "She's gotten up a few times, but besides that…" He tried reassuring, but instead Clint could feel something stirring within him as he stared at the gold tag hanging from the animal. Perhaps he should give it to her… but he knew he wouldn't be allowed to take one step into the room with his current condition. He didn't want to deliver it through the surgeon either; so he'd do it later when his body and mind were in better shape.

"You said my teammates went up to the Bridge?" Stuffing the bird under his armpit, the Hawk asked as he slipped the bottle of aspirin into his pocket; suddenly feeling a bit spry.

"I believe so." The surgeon replied, shifting his body more towards Clint as he began hinting at his temporary farewells.

"Thank you," Clint acknowledged as he started in a backwards stroll before swiftly pivoting on his heels. "You'll stay by her, right?" He then finished in question, slowing to glare over his shoulder.

"Of course." He nodded before tipping. "Perhaps I should-" Jackson's voice faded from Clint's ears as he left the surgeon down the hall while continuing in his pursuit to the Bridge.

Carefully marching up the stairs, Clint felt his fingers digging into the hawk so deeply that he was for sure he would have killed it if it were real; all the illness and misery forging into boiling rage. Clint contained along the corridor of the main floor until the glass doors slid and the Avenger stepped into the mother-room. Nearly every screen was engulfed with the news on Boston while others provided documents on AIM and wanted hostiles. Agents swarmed like sharks, running here and there. Scanning the busy foyer, Clint's eyes fell over to the roundtable where his teammates crowded with Fury; evidently in a tense conversation or even an argument. "Clint." The four pairs of eyes were suddenly burying themselves into Clint as Bruce spilled his name while he shred the distance between them; stopping just behind Natasha who was settled in a chair across from the scientist.

"Are you okay? – you look terrible." _Wow, thanks Natasha._ Clint was about to put his thoughts into words, but then his eyes fell to the newspaper that claimed the table center in which great black letters titled: **Avenger Injured?** Narrowing his eyes, Clint reached for it, holding it below his vision where he could get a better look. Beneath the print was a photo which Clint recognized the location where the scene had happened; probably taken while they were traveling to the Helicarrier because all that feasted the eyes was the aftermath with the cops and the blood. _Who even- ?_ Clint dangerously grimaced, wanting to shoot whoever had leaked this information.

"Clint." Clint's eyes remained glued to the article even as Bruce's hand clasped on his shoulder, trying to pull him away. "Come on, let's go somewhere else." Listening to the comforting voice of his friend, Clint managed to drag his eyes momentarily from the paper as Natasha grabbed it from his hand. He nearly resist, wanting to demand what had happened, but he forced himself to stand down.

"Why don't we take a short break and continue this in a little bit?" Steve appealed without giving the Director a choice of allegiance; tracking close beside them as Bruce walked Clint from the mother-room while placing a hand on his forehead. _Why?_ Couldn't they just ask him if he wasn't feeling well? _No,_ because this is what Bruce and the others did when they cared way _too_ much.

"You're really burning up… Have you eaten yet?" Bruce asked, leisurely leading them down the corridor.

"Not since we left for Boston; maybe something to go with the painkillers I took," Clint responded, suddenly realizing that was a fricken _long_ time between meals; remembering he had lost his appetite after everything went down last night.

"I can tell; I'm surprised you're still on your feet." Rubbing his face again, Clint caught the gist of Bruce's mumbling.

"Nearly fainted already...," he grumbled as they moved through the doors of a lounging room.

"Here." Ushered onto the couch, Clint collapsed with an agonizing huff and feeling more solaced to be off his feet. "Do you hurt anywhere else?" Bruce started to question with slight concern. "Did you take anything?"

"It's just a common virus, beside the bruises; migraine, some congestion," explaining, Clint looked down at his stomach as he pulled out the aspirin bottle. "I haven't taken any yet; I was waiting unti-"

"What is that?" He was then interrupted by Natasha, which he followed her gaze over to the Watcher as did everybody else.

Clint sighed, picking up the hawk and holding it out in front of him as he leaned back into the armpit of the couch. "Here," he alerted Natasha, tossing the plush animal to her before advising, "read the tag." Watching closely, Steve sided next to her while Bruce waited for them to finish reading the words privately.

Then Natasha glanced towards the soldier as he glared up at Clint with narrowed eyes. "Where'd you get this?" He asked as Bruce came beside them to see what the sudden fuss was about.

"I found it in my room this morning," Clint confessed under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest. "Apparently, it was meant to be an 'amusing' gift; JARVIS said Tony had placed the 'Watcher' there back in December _and_ there are several more on other Helicarriers. Isn't that right, JAVES?"

_"That would be correct, Agent Barton."_ The AI replied as Steve fell into an armchair, holding onto their new feathered friend; it'd probably be more amusing if Tony wasn't struggling up a cliff from an endless pit. All of them held confusion on their faces while Natasha barely opened her mouth to say something, but Bruce's voice chimed before hers.

"How'd he get that in your room?" Bruce most likely asked for everyone, maybe even for Clint; he could only shrug though in oblivion before the scientist waved off his own sentence. "Anyway… Would you like me to get you anything?" His words trembled slightly as if he were trying to resist the brief distraction; failing to keep his eyes from the Watcher.

There was a sudden moment in which Clint allowed the others to gather their thoughts from the gift until he cleared his voice; driving the attention back to him since they had bigger things to worry about. "What I'd like is to know what the hell was going on out there." Bruce met both Steve and Natasha's gaze after the scientist rubbed his eyes while the Widow hesitantly planted herself on the coffee table, crossing her legs. Clint waited patiently, realizing that she was struggling to find the right words.

"Fury's brought in Nancy Cromwell." Natasha finally hazed. Clint didn't even know where to begin with a response... _Nancy Cromwell?_ The woman had been appointed head of AIM once the Mandarin incident had ceased; it had stamped the headlines for weeks. SHIELD was eager to question her once the generators were stolen and the Stark Tower had been ambushed. Clint had been a witness, going with Fury and several agents, but Cromwell had refused to speak with them and only mentioned that five men and two women from the company had taken off. Ever since, SHIELD posted them as wanted hostiles on the run. "She's downstairs in the interrogation rooms."

"Then why aren't you guys down there?" Clint snipped a little harshly, pushing himself back upright before suddenly dropping his head into his hands with an harrowed grunt; he managed to look back up though as Natasha came beside him.

Steve had suddenly moved closer, kneeling with the Watcher still in his hands. "Fury doesn't want us to deal with the interrogation. He thinks we'll take it too personal and…" He broke off, suddenly dropping his eyes.

"And what? We're not gonna kill her," the Hawk countered.

"No, but he thinks that our brutality will lose control." Bruce enlightened, gradually entwining his fingers.

"_Control?_ Tony barely survived the night and Fury is worried about _fucking control?_" Exploding of pure ambition, everyone was suddenly standing erratically as Clint continued in his fire. "Tell that man he can screw off because AIM has too much to answer for. They're respon - _...Uh...,_" the adrenaline rush was immediately cut off with a wrong movement of Clint's body; forcing him to grasp his ribs as he fell back onto the cushions.

"_Stop!_" The scientist growled sternly, setting his hands on Clint's shoulders to keep him down. "Just – _stop_ …Stay put, I'll be right back." Bruce warned more calmly before prowling off in a mutter. _"Jesus Christ…"_

Rounding to the other side of the couch, Steve sat himself next to Clint. "This is the exact reason why Fury doesn't want us down there." The soldier breathed, a bit heated while shaking his head. "You may think we agree to this, Clint, but we don't; we're just as upset as you are." Drawing in a breath, Clint let his eyes drift over to Steve's.

"Then why are we still up here? AIM has the blood of hundreds and thousands of people on their hands, including Tony's… They're _involved_, Steve, and their secrets aren't going to spill themselves," Clint clarified dully, leaning back against the headrest as Steve returned the animal to the Hawk's lap. Draping his hands over it, Clint kept his view level with Steve's until he recognized the black patches that splotched his vision; obligating him to bury his head into his knees with a groan while feeling a warm and comforting hand land on his back.

"Here." A voice muffled into range, but Clint remained in his current position while his senses gradually fused back together. He wasn't sure on how much time had passed, but the hand that gently shook him notified that it had been quite a while; so peeking his head up scantly, Clint taped his pupils to Bruce who set a tray down on the coffee table. "Eat something before you bite someone's head off." Bruce ascribed as Clint squinted at the bowl; sniffing the soothing aroma. _Typical_. Chicken noodle soup for the sick person – _typical_. At least it was scratch from the chefs; canned things just weren't the same.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Clint accepted the food. "I still think we should consider interrogating Cromwell on our own," Clint opinionated while moving the Watcher aside and pulling the tray onto his lap. "Fury goes down there and we may never know how the full conversation played out; and that's essential." Clint's words seemed to sting his partners' ears convincingly as he spooned the hot soup into his mouth.

"And if we do, how are we supposed to get past the agents guarding the floor down there?" Steve questioned with a dry wit in his tone; inclining back with his arms behind his head as if he were awaiting to hear the master plan that Clint had.

"What about a distraction? It'd give us enough time to get down to the hall without raising awareness." Bruce suddenly piped in after what appeared to be some uncertainty.

Pointing with his pinky while holding the tail of the utensil, Clint swallowed. "See? A _perfect_ plan." He gestured openly with both hands, acting as if nothing could go wrong.

"Yeah, and what kind of distraction, genius?" Natasha input, not exactly persuaded like Bruce and Steve were, obviously.

"Natasha, six people – _six_ – managed to fend off an alien invasion _twice_… just minus Thor the second time; I'm sure the _four_ of us will have no problem getting down to those interrogation rooms," the Hawk expounded sarcastically to the assassin as if she were a child while gesturing with his hands to spice up his argument.

_"If I may pitch in?"_ JARVIS' voice suddenly filled the room with an eager twist; making everyone raise a brow in curiosity since he seemed to be hinting that he could help.

They exchanged glances with each other before Steve was the one to speak. "Be our guest; what ya got?"

_"This Helicarrier is currently powering itself through a snowstorm; electrical difficulties would doubtingly be a suspicion."_ The AI announced casually while Clint remembered spotting the thick flurry of snow that pounded the Helicarrier as he arrived at the Bridge.

"Thank you, _JARVIS!_ You are such a life saver," Clint praised, turning his smirk over to Natasha. "So you in or what?" He asked, finishing the last scoop of broth before placing the bowl back on the tray; immediately feeling a lot better now that he wasn't starving.

"Fine…" The woman slightly rolled her eyes before acquiring into the unauthorized interrogation they were about to endure. "What's your play, JARVIS?" There was no need for a response as the lights immediately flickered before stopping.

Fragilely pushing himself to his feet, Clint slowly made his way over to the counter with the aspirin bottle in hand. "Well, there's your answer," he said, grabbing a water bottle after pulling out a tablet and drinking it down with the crisp liquid. "Has Fury spoken with her yet?"

"From what we heard he was going to wait." Bruce complied, joining Clint by the counter.

"Wait? There's no time for waiting," the Hawk retorted with a snort, screwing the cap back onto the water bottle before slamming it against the granite and turning to face the others.

"Well, we're glad you agree, but will you be able to make it down there?" Steve employed with strong dexterous as if he was looking forward to hearing what Ms. Cromwell had to reveal; clearly furious that Fury had banned them from the interrogation.

"Of course," Clint was serious, hoping he wasn't lying to himself.

"Good, then should we go now?" The Captain suggested, darting his eyes from Bruce to Natasha in confirmation.

"Yeah, let's go." Natasha made the final agreement for them while Bruce nodded; taking a last observation of Clint's condition to be sure the archer was true to his word before they made their way to the sliding doors. However, Clint paused to looked back at the Watcher, deciding that he'd come back for it; nobody would probably be coming in there since the majority of everybody was most likely bunkering down for the night. "Do your magic, JARVIS." The assassin uttered under her breath as the four of them slinked into the dim-lighted hallway one by one. The shallow lights then eerily flickered as the group pressed on down the corridor towards the stairwell and just as the mother-room came into view every light source just _died_. Clint soon noticed a change in pace as Natasha treaded faster until she declined down the steps with the faint light of surviving screens guiding them through the pitch black. After a few minutes of passing agents and hearing the shouting as the crew tried to figure out what the hell happened, Clint planted his feet on their wanted floor like his partners did.

_"HEY!"_ A man bellowed warningly, but the Widow easily solved that problem.

Clint trailed close to Bruce while Steve and Natasha took care of the guards that block the prison gate which secured the interrogation rooms before the cells. "Which room is she in? Do you know?" Clint asked, a bit out of breath while Natasha grabbed a ring of keys from one of the guards as the lights flitted again.

"No, but I'd assume it'd be A." She replied, opening the cell door with a creek and stopping at the right before two heavy duty doors; one stamped _A1_ and the second stamped _A2_. Fiddling for the right key, Natasha first unlocked _A1_; pulling it open to reveal the observation room, which the agent inside was quickly rid of. "Here, I'll join you guys in a minute; I'm going to be sure the recording is on." Natasha handed the keys to Steve as she disappeared into the observation room while the super-soldier did as told since they had little time and opened _A2_; and there she was.

A natural scowl progressively grew on Clint's face as his eyes lay upon the older, blond woman as he followed beside Steve and Bruce; finally Natasha entered with the quiet slam of the door. The walls were thick and dark, painted with nothing but deserved isolation. Her frame was straight and fearless; definitely ready for the conversation that was dwelling. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the earth's _mightiest_ heroes." Cromwell hummed bittersweet with her faint British accent, placing her folding hands on the steel table in front of her. "Although, I believe there are a few missing." She then added to the agitation while the lights still flared daringly.

The oust oozed itself within their presence, which there was no doubt that fists were forming, but they held their ire as Natasha began in a flatlining tone. "Cut the crap and let's make this brief so it makes both our days better; what do you know about AIM's involvement between the stolen generators and Boston?"

Cromwell had narrowed her eyes defensively. "I will let you know that I have no connection with those events." She breathed with cold eyes.

"Then why'd you refuse to speak with SHIELD?" Clint sputtered while crossing his arms.

"On the account of _accusation_. I told SHIELD who is responsible, but I had no dealing with what happened." The woman continued, heated by the consultation.

"Accusation?" Steve copied for simplification, including a very irritated mood within his calm voice.

"I was brought in to _rebuild_ AIM, not bring it any lower than it already was; extremis and now this? I'm only trying to protect this company from the hatred that has now been pointed at it. We are not the ones that you want." Snapping, Cromwell had suddenly stood, slamming the table with her hand. "You must believe me." She pleaded more strongly.

"Perhaps if you cooperate with us your skin will be saved, but by avoiding us you're just ruining your own reputation. You want us to believe you, tell us more about the men and women that took off." Bruce wisely designed, hoping that'd get the woman to at least give them something more.

"Like I told SHIELD: I don't know." She said firmly as incensed hollering could be heard growing from outside the hall. Clint nervously exchanged a glance with his teammates; they were losing time, any second they could be pulled from this room without improvement.

Forcedly landing a fist on the table, Clint barked through clinched teeth in an absolute stern tone. "We've got a man up in the infirmary barely hanging on because of your guys. Right now the whole of AIM is still looking guilty and even though you say you weren't a part of it we can still trail you and your company as accessories to _murder_ if that man dies. You don't help us then we can't help you… please." Clint finished fleetly as compelled pounding struck the sturdy doors, leaving them with heavy breath while they backed up. "_Come on!_ Just any small detail you remember?" Frustrated, Clint lost his temper, begging in a howl as the door burst forth and several hands were immediately dragging them into the hall.

Being a part of SHIELD or consultants, neither of them fought the force as their backs were shoved against the corridor wall. "Are you out of your _damn_ minds? You four have a _serious_ problem with direct orders." The Director cast exasperatedly as he came to a halt shortly from them.

"Wait!" There was a hasty lapse as the single word leaked from Cromwell, urging all eyes to land on her as she stood in the room; the words _murder_ seemed to have been the noose. "I will cooperate."

Fury held his burning gaze on her until he finally demanded. "Say your piece."

"All I know is that those seven pawns were very close to Killian, especially Stephen Ryide; he'd do anything for him, even if it meant finishing what Killian had started. I don't know where they would have gone… but I will give you permission to access previous files if that would help. However, whatever further information you need, capturing Ryide would be your best bet." Cromwell finished steadily.

The Director stood there, looking as if he didn't know whether to lock the Avengers up or thank them, but that sentence appeared to startle. _He'd do anything for him? Even if it meant finishing what Killian had started?_ That made their ears _bleed_. "Pierce, escort Ms. Cromwell to a room." Fury ordered, in which the agent called stepped into the interrogation room before he began stomping off down the hall.

A timid glower cultivated Steve's demeanor as he rashly gained on Fury with Clint, Bruce, and Natasha tracking right behind him. "Your letting her go?" The Captain berated as they continued at a fast pace.

"Absolutely not; the only time we'll be seeing her walk is when we have those _'pawns'_ in custody." He consoled as they reached the stairs.

"We're going to do what she suggested then - Go after them?" Natasha recast, following in the rear with Bruce.

"We'll have JARVIS search through the files since we have access to them now, narrow things down; they could be looking to get out of the country or group at an old location. I'd advise getting some rest; regain your strength because if JARVIS finds something, we'll be heading out shortly." Fury stopped midway on the stairs to looked down at them as he attested.

"Shortly? But with JARVIS' speed, he could have results within just a few hours," Clint hindered, fearing that he wouldn't be verified to the manhunt.

"Nick, we just got out of a battle; you can't expect us to just be ready. Clint is barely in shape to be put out in the field." Bruce mentioned, unintentionally siding with the archer as Fury advanced up the stairs.

"Then _get_ ready; we can't wait any longer, especially with hostilities running loose." The Director told a bit strictly to Clint's surprise.

"Yeah, like how you waited to interrogate Cromwell?" The Hawk riposted, narrowing his eyes as Fury suddenly stopped and Clint received regretful looks from his partners.

"Excuse me, but sometimes behavior speaks louder than words." He returned, vexed at Clint's unseen challenge. "Just be ready." Fury was hard as he finished, continuing on from the four of them once they reached the main floor.

"What are we going to do? I don't want to be felt here," Clint said, trusting that one of them had something to reassure.

"We'll figure something out, Clint; we're not going to leave you." Steve heartened, turning to face him as they alleged the hall. _Good_, because as long as Tony was down Clint wasn't going to be excluded from a possible vengeance mission.

"But all we really can do for now is do as Fury says: get some rest." Natasha was candid, sighing as she dropped her eyes from them and diverged down the corridor.

Clint watched her until Bruce's voice brought the archer's attention to the scientist. "She's right; would you like help getting back to your room?"

"Actually, I'm going to head down to the infirmary." He answered quietly with Bruce looking like he was about to object, but then he nodded thoughtfully before hesitantly walking off with Steve. Clint brought his hands to his face with a breath before he slowly fared down the declining steps.

The halls and rooms were sullied; sullied enough that Clint could see his own reflection within the glass. He stood there for a long while, staring at his friend's ailed body. The archer just felt... lost. He just... he didn't know what to do. Twisting, Clint allowing his body to slide down the wall into a crouch as he grabbed his head, resting it on his knees. What were they to do? Nothing, there was nothing. They were _all_ lost; ensnared with unanswered questions; lost without any knowledge of where the pawns were and what they were doing or planning; lost without Tony; and now Clint was sick. There was nothing, but the interval; excruciatingly waiting for results and recovery. Clint remembered times like this, but this... this was different. This was downfall and downfall led to unfortunates.

"Hey." A soft voice gradually pulled Clint from his thoughts, lifting his head to see Steve standing above him in a sweatshirt. It was too much effort to speak, so he just laid his head back down. Steve lowered beside him and a single faint tap sounded, making Clint flip his head on its side to see what caused the noise. A styrofoam cup sat there with a lid on it while Steve held a separate one for himself. "It's tea; thought you could use some if you're to get better before we take this on." Steve said gingerly in kind offer. "How are you feeling, by the way?"

Clint sighed depressingly, not knowing where to begin. When he didn't answer, Steve lightly pushed the cup closer to him. "I don't know...," he finally let out, wrapping his fingers around the cup and sipping the hot tea; for some reason he wished he had some hard alcohol, but that'd probably just make everything worse. "Medicine's definitely helping, but...," Clint shook his head before continuing, "for my mentality, it's just... I know what's coming."

The soldier leaned his head back against the wall. "Me too... It's just a wall of fog right now."

"It's a mess," Clint corrected more gruesomely.

Nodding, Steve opened his mouth, huffing out air. "Yes it is... Almost two weeks ago everything was just normal; things like the generators were normal. Then the Tower and Boston follow... we're suddenly trying to glue the pieces back together." The Captain drifted his eyes down. "We'll figure it out, though."

"Will we?" He denounced, staring at the cup before making eye contact with the soldier.

"We always do." Steve rebound confidently before he moved his cup to his opposite hand, reaching into his bulging sweatshirt pocket. Clint didn't even know how he missed that. His partner pulled out the plush hawk, looking at it before holding it out for Clint to see. "I'm sure Tony had other reasons for leaving this to you; a way to smile when things get this bad. Tony may be down; that's a big loss, but I bet he's still rooting for us." Clint took his eyes from Steve as he spoke in a settle range; swallowing, the archer glared at the cup in his hands. "We'll figure it out, Clint... And when we do, we're gonna have a huge ass party; we'll get out of here, go on a_ long_ vacation." A mere grin couldn't be resisted, impressed at Steve's willed cussing; Tony would be _so_ proud. Reconnecting their gaze, there was a sly look to the soldier as he raised his cup as if he had just made a toast. Clint inhaled, taking a moment to digest Steve's optimism; but he eventually pressed the cup to his friend's, in cheer to the thought that this would all sort out sooner or later. However, deep in their eyes mirrored the dread; knowing that there would be no end to the bloodshed.

* * *

_Thank you for your gracious time and I hope you enjoyed **No End**_. _I don't know how long it will be until the first chapters for the main series will be released, but I'll try to get it out as soon as I can. Feel free to leave a review and I hope to see you guys soon enough with the new series!_

_-Learlorde_


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